New Earth
by A.l.u.t
Summary: What if Voyager didn't come back for Janeway and Chakotay until... way later?
1. Chapter 1

September 2374

Chakotay and Kathryn's house was nestled back in the woods not far from where they'd been deposited on the planet in their stasis pods. The pods had been recycled ages ago. The beige and grey Starfleet shelter that they had used when they first arrived had also been torn down wall by wall. It was replaced by a sturdy log cabin that stood up to the plasma storms ten times better than the shelter ever did. Kathryn had an office, Chakotay had a wood shop, and they each had a huge bedroom. In addition, he had built a living room, dining room, full kitchen, a safe room under the house for the especially violent plasma storms, and a sun room but the giant wraparound porch was the best part of the house. They had two calendars in the kitchen now. One for the New Earth year but they still measured anniversaries and birthdays by Old Earth time. The New Earth year was a few months shorter and neither of them wanted to get older any quicker than they had to.

Tonight was the second anniversary of their landing. It was winter time and the sun was setting. Though winter rarely got below 10°C, it promised to be a crisp night and Kathryn and Chakotay shared a blanket as they sat on the porch swing, one of the many pieces of furniture Chakotay had built. He had an arm around Kathryn while she leaned lazily back into his shoulder and cradled a cup of hot cocoa between both hands to keep them warm. She still liked her coffee, of course, but they'd had cocoa last New Year's and it seemed like a good tradition.

That day of the year, for Kathryn, was becoming a time for reflection. Last year was when she finally had put down all ideas of getting off the planet. She thought of Voyager and hoped they were closer to home. Tuvok would see to it. It had been her last request to him.

She looked at Chakotay and smiled at the quiet happiness on his face as the setting sun lit up his features. She was happy too. Their life was a good one and with his companionship she never felt lonely. If it had been anyone else stranded with her, the last two years would have been much more difficult. He had his eyes closed, enjoying the last warm rays before the sun dipped below the horizon.

She thought about how good he looked to her: his etched facial features, his strong body, the hint of dimple peeking out in his half smile. She breathed in a little deeper thinking about the time a few weeks ago when she'd snuck a peek at him coming out of the river with nothing on. He certainly was attractive and on top of that her best friend. So what was the problem?

What if Voyager comes back? _It's been two years. They're not coming back. You knew that last year._ What about Mark? _You haven't thought about him for awhile now and you know it. _What if Chakotay doesn't still love me? _Don't be a fool. He still looks at you the same way he always has no matter how distant you keep him. _What if I don't love him? _Now you _are_ being a fool._ Kathryn couldn't help but laugh inwardly a little as she allowed herself to see the last piece that was missing between them. She was finally ready to make it right.

"Chakotay?" she said.

"Mmm?" he opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at her.

"You told me a legend once, about an angry warrior..." It was the first time she'd brought it up since the story was told.

His smile grew even wider, understanding perfectly.

"Marry me?" he said, "and not because I'm your only choice?"

She nodded. He took in her glowing face for a moment before he kissed her, the first one they'd ever had in their four years together. They turned back to the sunset, Chakotay squeezing Kathryn a little closer and both of them enjoying the unblemished contentment. They considered themselves married from that moment on.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tuvok laid down the padd he'd been reading and leaned back in his chair, thinking hard. He'd been sitting in his ready room reviewing the latest telemetry Voyager's scans had returned and it left him ill at ease. A few months ago he'd made the decision to skirt Borg space. He could not see the logic in taking the crew into such a dangerous expanse in spite of the added time to their journey, although now there was evidence the Borg were less of a threat than they used to be. He picked up the report again: yet another instance of a cube debris field. These were becoming more and more common. It appeared their old enemy had finally met its match. What worried Tuvok, however, was that he could not decide if a race more powerful than the Borg was a positive or negative thing for their crew.

It had been just over two years since Voyager had left Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay on the unknown planet. Shortly after they'd lost their command team, Tuvok had been nearly persuaded by Harry to go to the Vidiians for a potential cure for their virus but the opportunity to contact them had never come up. The crew had adjusted finally but the void left could still be felt. Tuvok had tried to run the ship as he thought Janeway would have. He showed faith in Tom Paris and Harry Kim, promoting them to First Officer and Chief of Security respectively, and B'Elanna Torres continued to prove herself as chief engineer, but Tuvok knew he tended to err on the safe side when Janeway would have taken risks. He wondered how close to home they'd be if she were still in command.

"Kim to Captain Tuvok."

"Go ahead."

"Can you come to the bridge, Captain? We're picking up a distress call."

"I am on my way, Lieutenant."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tuvok walked onto the bridge and took his seat in the captain's chair next to Commander Paris.

"Been mostly quiet except for the call," said Tom.

"From what we can gather," said Harry, "it's an automated signal from a beacon orbiting a planet just a few light years from here."

"Have you tried hailing them?" asked Tuvok.

"A few times," said Tom. "No response."

"Try opening a direct channel," said Tuvok. "If they are in trouble they may not be able to answer hails."

"Aye, captain," replied Harry. "Channel open. Audio only." The crew jumped as a loud rumbling snorting sort of noise echoed over the bridge. They stuffed their fingers in their ears and Harry cut the transmission.

"What was that?" yelled Tom.

"I have no clue," answered Harry. "Should I turn the volume down and try again?"

"Yes," said Tuvok. "How long until we're in range to get a visual?"

"Only a few more seconds."

"Reopen the channel on screen when ready."

The viewer popped up with a muffled version of the rumbling but only a lime green mass could be seen. The bridge crew stared at the viewer perplexed. Tuvok merely raised an eyebrow. He seemed annoyed.

"Hello!" he said rather loudly. "May we be of assistance?" The rumbling ceased in a series of snorts and the obstruction began to move. To everyone's surprise, the mass backed off and a sweet faced alien with emerald eyes and five-lobed ears sat up and yawned. His lobes fanned out broadly as he stretched and ran his fingers through his lime green hair.

"What, oh!" he said, as he looked at the monitor startled, finally realizing someone was actually calling him. "You're answering our distress call!"

"Yes," said Tuvok, even more irritated. "I am Captain Tuvok. With whom am I speaking?"

"Lorrit. No rank or anything. Just Lorrit. Oh, I can't believe someone finally heard us!" he said excitedly. "It's been so long. Yes! Yes, you can help us! Let me go get my Tribunus. He'll be so pleased. Stay right there." Lorrit got up quickly but then turned around and came back to his monitor. "You won't tell him I was sleeping, will you?" Tom snickered. Tuvok huffed a little.

"I will not inform your Tribunus you were sleeping."

"Thank you! I'll just go get him then. Stay right there."

"Yes, Mr. Lorrit, go ahead."

Lorrit nodded quickly then finally left.

The viewer remained empty for quite some time.

"Do you think he got lost?" whispered Tom to Tuvok. Tuvok did not reply although he was considering ending the transmission and trying again on a different frequency, when suddenly the door burst open and Lorrit tumbled through, pointing at his monitor.

"See, I told you," he said to the much more dignified looking alien of the same species following behind with an irritated expression on his face. The new alien appeared to be wearing a uniform with several bars on the arm and had slightly more chiseled features than his subordinate, though with the same emerald eyes, lobed ears, and lime green hair. When he saw there was indeed someone on the viewer his expression cleared and he took a seat at the monitor.

"Hello," he said genially to Tuvok. "I'm glad to see Lorrit wasn't mistaken this time. He tends to fall asleep at his post and mix up dreams with reality. I trust he didn't keep you waiting too long while he looked for me?"

"We are in no hurry," said Tuvok.

"Ah, I see that he did," said the alien, casting a sidelong glance of disapproval at Lorrit. "Well, I apologize, and I hope any further interaction between us can go more smoothly."

Tuvok nodded.

"Good, good. Introductions are in order, I suppose. I am Krestic. I used to be Tribunus of a Zahoran freighter before we crashed here on this dismal little planet."

"I am Captain Tuvok, of the Federation starship Voyager. We received your distress call. How may we be of assistance?"

"Where do I begin?" said Krestic, letting out a big breath. "It all depends on what you can do."

"If you tell us your situation, Tribunus," said Tuvok, "we will be better able to assess what aid we can give you."

"Very well," said Krestic. "My crew and I were on route home when we were turned aside by a species called the Devore. We were forced to find a different route to our home world around Borg space. The trip proved too long for our little vessel and we were obliged to land here. Unfortunately our ship was damaged in the landing. Now we are seeking passage back home.

"Perhaps we can aid you in repairs," said Tuvok. "Our resources are limited but we will do what we can."

"That's impossible," replied Krestic. "We've been on this planet for three years. The ship was torn apart and reused long ago."

"I see. How many of you are there?"

"There are nine of us," he answered. "We would not be a burden. All of us have been raised on starships and have been groomed to work on them from a very young age, although there is always the odd one where the training doesn't stick," he added as he eyed Lorrit. "We would be willing to work off our passage and would replenish any resources we used once we reach our home world."

"How long of a journey is your planet from here?"

"I can hardly say without knowing your ship's capabilities, shall I transmit the coordinates to you?"

"Please do, Tribunus," said Tuvok. "I must speak with my senior staff before we can make a decision as to whether or not we can render the aid you require. If we find we cannot transport you, we may perhaps be able to replenish your supplies."

"Thank you, Captain. I look forward to hearing from you again."

"Tuvok out."

"Do you think they'll help us?" asked Lorrit after the pointy eared alien was off the viewer.

"I'm not sure," answered Krestic. "He didn't seem the friendliest of humanoids. Still, I'm glad this one was persistent enough to wake you up this time."

"I'm sorry, Tribunus," replied Lorrit, sheepishly. "It won't happen again."

"It will," sighed Krestic, resignedly. "I don't know where we went wrong with you Lorrit. Whed can stay awake longer than you and he's only a baby. If we're lucky, we'll be home soon and you won't have to worry about duties anymore."

"Do you think they have toilets like we do?" asked Lorrit. "I hope they don't make me scrub those."

"If you keep falling asleep, they may."


	2. Chapter 2

Tuvok, Tom, Harry, B'Elanna, The Doctor, Neelix, and Lieutenant Ayala sat around the table in the briefing room with sullen faces. They'd all been quiet since Tuvok read off the information transmitted to them from the Zahorans. They had all been looking forward to having some extra help. Since their promotions, the senior staff had all been pulling double duty. Harry was spread the thinnest between security, tactical shifts and his pet project; the new astrometrics lab. Ayala covered regular shifts on both opps and helm and Tom's time was almost entirely taken up between being a full time First Officer and the only trained medic on the ship. Harry was the one to finally break the silence.

"What's thirteen years, really," he said, "compared to our trip. We figure we've got, what, at least seventy years left?"

"Thirteen years amounts to quite a large allocation of resources, Mr. Kim," answered Tuvok. "Even though the Zahoran home world is not that far off our own course, we are still going to be adding nine people that we have to then feed and house."

"One of them is only a baby," said Tom. "He won't need that much."

"And the baby's parents seem to be experienced physicians," said the Doctor. "It would be nice to have a full medical staff again now that Kes is gone. Mr. Paris is helpful, but his First Officer's duties demand most of his time."

"They might be able to help us find better places to fuel up," offered Neelix. "I'll admit my knowledge of the Delta Quadrant isn't quite as strong this side of Borg space."

"I have considered that, Mr. Neelix, however I am hesitant still to make such a long commitment to aliens we know very little about," answered Tuvok.

"We don't necessarily have to commit," said B'Elanna. "We can always map a course to the next habitable planet and tell them it's only a trial run."

"I don't think we should do it," said Ayala. "Yeah, it would be great to lighten the work load but we've got to take care of ourselves out here."

"We're not on the Val Jean," retorted B'Elanna. "This isn't an every-man-for-himself type of operation anymore, Ayala."

"Believe me, after four years I'm well aware of that…"

"I'm for the extra help," said Tom. "It would be nice to get the duty rosters out early for once and get everyone off my back and I wouldn't mind a free evening once in a while." Tom nudged B'Elanna's knee under the table with his own.

"What if they end up being hostile?" pushed Ayala.

"I don't think they are," said Neelix. "I've dealt with a lot of different species and they didn't seem that way."

"We do need to have a plan in case the situation becomes insupportable," said Tuvok.

"So you're gonna take them on?" said Ayala.

"We all need time off…"

"If you'd quit taking shifts off..."

"I could definitely use…"

"We can always toss them out an airlock…"

The conversation had deteriorated into an angry free for all of opinions. No one was even paying attention long enough to tell if they were agreeing or not. Tuvok leaned back in his chair with his index fingers pressed to his lips. He knew any attempt at a logical discussion was pointless until the staff's emotions were vented. In the past, Tuvok had simply ordered everyone to be quiet but that only seemed to escalate the argument in the next briefing. The crew was over worked and he knew Ayala was anxious about his future assignment. Tuvok had yet to decide if he would become a permanent member of the senior staff or even which station he would be best suited for. Ayala had been chosen as the most capable member of the former Maquis in an attempt to continue the emulsion of the two crews that the Janeway/Chakotay dynamic had seemed to make work but Ayala was hot headed and, without Chakotay to rein him in, was proving to be more of a disruptive factor than a binding one.

The crew was beginning to quiet down again and Tuvok was ready to lead the discussion back. He eyed Harry from across the table. He'd quit arguing some time ago and was looking around at the group in dismay. Tuvok was about to attempt to get the crew to return to a rational conversation when Harry spoke up again.

"Janeway would do it," said Harry over the din.

"What?" said Tom as the rest of the crew finally started listening. This was the first time their former captain's potential decisions had been brought up in a briefing.

"Captain Janeway would take on the Zahorans," said Harry. "They're just trying to get home, like us. She'd have compassion for them whether or not it benefited us or used up resources. If we had the means, she'd help. I think we should take them."

"That is true," said Tom. "She did take the Maquis in."

"A fact we are reminded of on a daily basis," muttered Ayala.

"C'mon," said B'Elanna, indignantly. "He only meant that Captain Janeway gave people chances."

"That is enough," interrupted Tuvok before the argument could begin again. "I have heard your opinions and I believe it is time we come to a decision." He sat forward and looked thoughtfully at Harry for a moment.

"While I am apprehensive about taking on so many for so long, I believe the benefit of lightening the work load on the senior staff justifies the risk. As most of you seem to be in favor of helping the Zahorans, I see no other alternative but to accommodate their request. Mr. Paris, begin training and duty schedules immediately. Mr. Kim, I will need you to see to their living arrangements and Mr. Neelix, you will do likewise for their personal needs. The rest of you will receive orders regarding the new additions when the rosters are finished. I will contact Tribunus Krestic immediately. I am sure he is anxious to learn of our decision. I will be in my ready room if I am needed. Dismissed."

"He sure got rid of us quick," said Ayala scathingly as they left the briefing room.

"He just didn't want another fight," replied B'Elanna. "So what was your deal in there? Why are you so dead set against these guys?"

"You don't know?" he said incredulously. "I'm the token Maquis on the senior staff. I guarantee he'd boot me off in a second if any of these aliens can fill my spot."

"Token Maquis? What am I then?"

"You were Starfleet at least once upon a time."

B'Elanna shook her head.

"Your only problem, Ayala is that you argue too much. If you just listen for once instead of automatically getting angry..."

"I don't have time for this," said Ayala, and he stormed off. B'Elanna just rolled her eyes.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Chakotay and Janeway were gliding along the river in the boat he'd built right after they'd landed. It had warmed up a little since New Year 's Day and the sun found its way out again from the recent cloud cover. Chakotay had nearly become an expert on steering through that little section of the river. A giant underwater rock sat to the left up ahead and a little farther on there was a shallow part to avoid. They'd gotten stuck there the first trip out and overturned the boat on two other occasions. One of those days had been particularly cold. As a result, he'd built a small one room shelter with a stone fire pit near the spot for drying off purposes. He smiled to himself thinking about the tense moments they'd had in that little hut, sitting in their underwear waiting for their clothes to dry. Maybe he'd dump them in today. They could play a little 'Captain and Commander' when they got to the shelter, but this time things could finish out differently.

Going from friends to lovers had been an easy transition for them. Most of the foundation was already there. He'd loved her since the day he'd come aboard Voyager and he suspected that she'd felt the same. Kathryn had stayed the night in his cramped little bed New Year's Day, but the next day after that, he'd built a bigger one, something he'd never had the heart to do before then. He'd pieced the new bed together out of both their small ones.

"I'm not giving you the opportunity to sleep alone ever again," he'd said to Kathryn. "Even if you're mad at me."

Kathryn was leaning on the rail of the boat with one hand in the water, enjoying the current as it flowed through her fingers. Chakotay watched his wife thinking about the last time they warmed up at the cabin. They'd had to help each other peel their wet things off and sit close to conserve heat, or at least that's what Kathryn had said. Chakotay had thought the fire warm enough but didn't argue. He'd begun to hope again after that incident but it had been a full six months before anything had happened. What had been bothering her? He thought he knew but still... What if Voyager did come back for them? Things were still too new for him to be sure. They called themselves married, but was it real? He trusted Kathryn to stick by her word and most of the time it felt like they had their own little Eden there but what if she got bored with him? He wished there were some way he could be sure of their permanence.

Kathryn turned around and looked up at her husband. She was going to suggest stopping for lunch but Chakotay's expression gave her pause. He seemed to be watching the trees as they slid by but she could tell he didn't really see them.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Chakotay seemed to snap out of it and put on a smile.

"I'm fine," he said. "I just drifted."

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong?" This hadn't been the first time she'd seen that far off look.

"Nothing," he answered, smiling again. Kathryn was about to pursue the issue but never got the chance. The boat had hit the shallow spot wrong and they were abruptly thrown into the river.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tuvok, Neelix, and Harry stood in the transporter room, waiting for Krestic to signal that his crew was ready. Most of the Zahoran's bulkier equipment and supplies had already been transported into the cargo bay. The aliens themselves were beaming on in two rounds. Tuvok hoped this did not mean they were bringing much more with them.

"We are ready, Captain," came Krestic's voice over the com, and Tuvok nodded to the transporter operator to energize. The first five aliens, one of which being the baby, materialized on the pad with a few pieces of luggage. Although Harry had seen Krestic and Lorrit during earlier communications, the Zahorans weren't exactly what he'd been expecting. They did all share the same lime green hair, emerald eyes, and lobed ears but Harry had not realized that the males were so tall, extremely tall. Both of them were nearly seven feet, and rather thin. The chiseled features of Krestic appeared to be the norm. The women, on the other hand, were much shorter and very plump. The baby, to Tuvok's annoyance, bawled loudly. All the adult aliens, however, appeared to have a very good natured expression on their face, and Krestic smiled broadly as he stepped off the pad to meet Tuvok.

"Greetings, Captain," said Krestic, placing his right fist on his left shoulder. "May I introduce my wife and second in command, Legatus Preva, and these are Praefectus' Nellio and his wife Blouxe and their little one is called Whed." Tuvok nodded at each in turn while Harry and Neelix did likewise, attempting to smile enough to make up for the Vulcan's less than welcoming appearance.

"We are pleased to meet you," said Tuvok, trying to speak over the baby's crying. "I hope once you are settled, you and your wife could join me for dinner in my quarters. There is much for us to discuss."

"A kind offer," said Krestic. "We are all delighted to be aboard although little Whed may not make it seem so. This is his first experience with the transporter." He smiled a bit at his attempt at a joke but the grin faltered and he cleared his throat as he saw Tuvok's continued stoic appearance.

"It seems like he wants you, Captain," said Blouxe as Whed leaned over and stretched his arms out to Tuvok. Harry and Neelix eyed each other, suppressing a laugh. Tuvok reluctantly took the baby. As soon as the Vulcan was holding the child, however, his crying stopped. Whed peered up into Tuvok's eyes and contentedly fanned his lobes, bringing them forward. Harry noticed Krestic looked rather thoughtful as he watched the scene but no one remarked. After a moment, Blouxe took back the baby who, laying his head on his mother's chest, seemed to settle in for a nap.

After Neelix left to take the first group of Zahorans to their quarters Tuvok gave the order to beam up the next group. This round of two men and two women, however, was not quite as organized as the first. When they materialized on the pad, they were accompanied by a good deal of luggage and Lorrit, the shortest of the Zahoran males, appeared to be carrying most of it. Tuvok had opened his mouth to greet them but was interrupted by the tall thin female Zahoran.

"Lorrit, you're going to drop that! Be careful," she yelled, her ears jerking forward in her anger.

"I've got it, Helia," replied Lorrit, who abruptly lost his handle on the silver box that Helia had been referring to. It hit the transporter pad with a crash and something inside shattered. Helia closed her eyes as if trying to muster patience.

"Why don't you carry some of your own stuff," interjected Tamaris, the other male.

"Now, now," said Ennica, who looked more like the traditional full-figured Zahoran than the other woman next to her. "Let's not argue. We don't want to look foolish in front of our new friends."

"If we didn't want to look foolish," retorted Helia, "we should have transported Lorrit up in a box." Lorrit's ears contracted their fan as if he wanted to hide while another one of Helia's possessions fell to the ground with a clatter. Helia looked around her and her gaze fell on Harry.

"What are you staring at?" she asked him. Harry had indeed been staring with his mouth open. Never mind how she behaved. She. Was. Gorgeous. "Why don't you help him with some of that?"

Harry muttered an inarticulate reply and bent down to help Lorrit collect the belongings. Helia simply swept past them and went to wait impatiently by the door.

"Don't mind her," said Lorrit to Harry. "She's just having a bad day."

"She's always having a bad day," put in Tamaris as he took a few things out of Lorrit's hands.

Tuvok simply stared at the whole scene, forgetting his entire greeting as he watched them with both eyebrows as far up as they would go. Finally coming to his senses, he ordered Harry to show this group to their quarters and followed them out of the transporter room. As they walked down the corridor and onto the turbolift, he listened to Helia and Tamaris bickering the entire way and thought to himself that it was likely to be a very long thirteen years.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Krestic and Preva arrived at dinner with less apprehension than they had beamed onboard with. After a long conversation with the lively Neelix, they now thought they understood Vulcans a little better, though they felt it odd that anyone would wish to suppress emotions in that way, though a thing or two made sense now.

"Captain," said Krestic, "let me once again express our gratitude at your generosity. I can't say how happy I am to be among the stars again."

"You are welcome," replied Tuvok. "The skills of your crew are greatly appreciated. We have many over worked officers."

"I sensed something of that," said Preva. "I hope we can be useful."

Krestic shot Preva a warning look. Tuvok pretended not to notice.

_Watch what you say_, Preva, thought Krestic to his wife. _We don't know how these people will react._

_You said you thought he was also a telepath_, she retorted. _I don't understand why you're so worried_.

_You never know_.

_If you are so concerned then why don't we speak when we get back to quarters. He may be listening right now and knows everything anyway._

_No_, replied Krestic, eyeing Tuvok for any signs of recognition. _He's only tactile. You saw how Whed didn't pick up his emotional control until he held him._

_But Whed saw him for what he was, I think._

_Babies operate on instinct, remember? They lose that once their old enough to manipulate their abilities._

Preva looked at Tuvok again. One thing she was glad of; Vulcans didn't seem to be disturbed by prolonged silences at meal times.

"Tell me, Captain," said Krestic. "When does my crew need to begin taking on duties. I'd like us to begin doing our share as soon as possible."

"Whenever they have settled in," replied Tuvok. "I would imagine this move is an adjustment for all of you. I would not want to inhibit the acclimation period by pushing integration too quickly." He was thinking of the situation the Maquis and the Starfleet crew found themselves in and the differences still prevalent after two years.

"A wise precaution," said Krestic, "but my crew is enthusiastic about getting home. We'll try and be as accommodating as possible and I hope we will all be good friends by the time we reach Zahora Prime."

"As do I," nodded Tuvok.


	3. Chapter 3

"What the hell did you do that for?" yelled Lieutenant Ayala at Lorrit. Lorrit was training on opps and had inadvertently erased the log Ayala had just spent twenty minutes entering in.

"I'm sorry," whimpered Lorrit. "I wanted to see how you initialized the new log. I thought you'd saved it."

"No, I didn't save it," huffed Ayala. "That's why it was still on the screen. I thought all you Zahorans were already trained."

"Well, I've been through my familiarization time," replied Lorrit. "And my half-time duties were just about done when we crashed. Once I was eligible for full time we weren't doing much flying."

"I thought I heard that they train you guys from when you're little children."

"They do. In your years, I guess we start when we're six. Is that young to you?"

"Six?" exclaimed Ayala. "Yeah that's young. How long is your familiarization and half-time?"

"Another six years."

"And you...wait. How old are you?"

Lorrit rolled his eyes to the ceiling thoughtfully and appeared to be counting on his fingers. "I suppose fifteen, in human years."

"Fif...you mean I'm training a damned teenager on my station?"

"I don't know what that means," stuttered Lorrit, "but I'm considered an adult by Zaho..."

"Whatever," snapped Ayala. "Look, the shift is almost over. Why don't you just let me finish up here. You can go early."

"But I thought we were going to go over how to read the sensors one more time. I think I almost had it down."

"You didn't and I don't have time to show you anymore since I have to redo my log now. Let's just call it a day, alright?"

"Yes, sir." Lorrit sighed as he walked off the bridge and headed back to quarters. He'd hoped this ship would be different than how it was with his crew. A fresh start maybe, but it looked like nothing was going to change anytime soon.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

When Neelix got to aeroponics he found there was barely room to get in the door. Much of the Zahoran's cargo had been transported there. He shoved one of the boxes aside and found there was a path left between the cargo and the planters. He followed along it towards the sound of someone digging in the dirt.

"Hello?" he called.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," said Ennica's voice, floating out from somewhere amongst the boxes. "I had to get all my plants here before I lost too many of them. It looks like we'll have to put some in stasis though. At least until I can get some of my own planters rebuilt."

Neelix wound his way through until he came to the source of the voice. The plump Zahoran was leaning over a formally empty planter and was up to her elbows in dirt.

"Hello!" she said brightly, pausing in her work to glance up at Neelix. "Fancy helping me out with this?"

Neelix hesitated for a moment but decided that since this planter hadn't been in use, she wasn't really disturbing anything. Kes would have been happy to let her have it. He nodded and went around to the opposite side. Ennica motioned to him to hold the top of the leafy plant.

"It's important to keep the roots untangled when you plant these," she explained as she straightened out the said roots and arranged them into the very deep hole. "They'll fight each other for moisture otherwise."

"What kind of plant is it?" asked Neelix.

"We called them spurgigott," she replied. "They were native to the planet we were on. They produce a lovely fruit that goes well with meat stuffs. Lots of nutrients too."

"I usually use leola root. It's pretty healthy."

"I've heard of that," said Ennica. "It takes quite a bit of seasoning though."

"I'm still perfecting the recipe," said Neelix.

"Maybe we can exchange ideas," she replied. Ennica patted the dirt around the plant and they moved onto the next one. Neelix rolled up his sleeves and dug the hole this time while Ennica detangled the roots of the next spurgigott. "So, tell me about Voyager. How long have you been out?"

"The ship's been in the Delta Quadrant for over four years now. They've got a long journey ahead still."

"As do we, apparently. Krestic was anxious to get off the planet, though. Especially with a baby around. There wouldn't be much future for Whed with only the few of us there. How many babies are on your ship?"

"Well, there's only Naomi," replied Neelix, "and she's part Ktarian, so she's already into early childhood."

"Only one child?" exclaimed Ennica. "You are spacefarers, are you not?"

"Well, yes," said Neelix, "but this crew only expected their mission to last a few weeks. Many of them have families at home. Quite a few, though, chose their career over a family."

"I suppose Zahorans and Starfleets are very different then. For us, once you choose to be a spacefarer, that becomes your way of life, though we like a visit to the home world now and again and often we need to upgrade our vessel. Really I'm not surprised there are so few couples on the ship. Human women are all so scrawny. If they want a mate they need good curves."

"Humans like to say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

"Yes, well, I don't think I would have gotten Hiddar had I been that skinny.

"Your husband?"

"Yes." Ennica looked a little sad. "He died in the crash, but I'm glad I had the time with him that I did all the same. Sometimes I feel sorry for poor Helia. No matter how much she tries she simply cannot gain the weight. I wonder if she'll ever marry."

"She's considered unattractive?"

"By Zahoran she'll find a nice human to settle down with," she added generously. "What about you? Don't you have a love interest?"

"I haven't gotten over Kes yet."

"Kes?"

"Yes, she was an Ocampa. We rescued her from the Kazon. I loved her very much but we separated and she decided to go off with a Mikhail Traveler named Zahir. Big tall fellow with blue eyes and black hair. I couldn't compete."

"Blue eyes? We bred those out on account they were so hideous. Humans can have blue eyes too can't they?"

"Yes."

"How unfortunate." Neelix and Ennica finished up with the last plant. Ennica went to open the next container and pulled out some root vegetables.

"Now," she said. "Help me pull up these dry old flowers over here."

"NO!" said Neelix. "I'd like to leave those."

"But they're dying," she replied. "This is still good soil. It should be used for food stuffs."

"They still have some life in them. I just need to figure out how much water to give them, and what kind of light, and... They were Kessie's favorite. I'm not ready to let them go yet."

"Ah, I see," said Ennica, patting Neelix on the arm. She went into her gardening bag and pulled out a small box, inside of which were some bright green granules. She looked through the plants to find the most likely candidate. "I only use this powder in great need, but I think I can spare a little for this. If I save one and promise to replant the seeds, can we pull the others?" Neelix looked reluctant but finally nodded his head. Ennica pushed aside the dirt at the base of the wilting flower and pushed a green grain down into the soil.

"Now hand me the water pitcher." Neelix obliged. Ennica covered the grain and watered it a little. Her ears fanned and she seemed to whisper to the little plant. Slowly the flower stood up straighter and color crept back into the petals.

"I'll have to keep an eye on her," said Ennica, "until she grows a little more, but I think she'll make it." Neelix smiled as he touched the petals, and lovingly fluffed them up.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tamaris was in engineering leaning on the railing surrounding the warp engine staring at the plasma swirling in the core. He had to admit to himself, though he'd worked with much better designed engines, the aesthetics of the thing were something to be seen.

"Praefectus Tamaris I presume?"

Tamaris turned around to see something even more pleasing to look at than the swirling plasma. The woman with the cranial ridges wasn't attractive by Zahoran terms but there was something about how she carried herself; like she could destroy the room in thirty seconds if she wanted to, that made him want to keep staring.

"I'm Lieutenant Torres," she said, "and this is Ensign Vorik." Tamaris was startled when he realized he hadn't noticed the pointy eared man standing next to her. He smiled quickly and placed his fist on his shoulder.

"Delighted," he said. Torres nodded curtly.

"Well," she began. "Just to acquaint you with how we do things down here, I'm the Chief Engineer and Vorik is in charge when I'm not around. As I understand it, you'll be covering engineering when neither of us are here?"

"I think that's the plan," replied Tamaris.

"The first thing I want you to do," began B'Elanna, "is start familiarizing yourself with our systems. I don't know how similar Zahoran controls are..."

"Excuse me Lieutenant," interrupted Vorik. B'Elanna shot him an annoyed look. "Shouldn't we begin with Starfleet protocol? He will need to learn to operate within our command structure if he is to..."

"There's plenty of time for that," snapped B'Elanna. "I want him to understand our equipment."

"Forgive me, Lieutenant," persisted Vorik, "but if I recall correctly, when the Maquis first came aboard the ship..."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Tamaris thought Torres was getting a little irate.

"I'm merely pointing out that significant cultural differences can often lead to conflict and I was simply trying to avert a situation similar to..."

"Well you're wrong," retorted B'Elanna, "and we're starting training with the engine!"

"Lieutenant, might I also point out..."

"Are you two married?" interrupted Tamaris, with a little grin, attempting to defuse the situation before the pointy eared guy got punched in the jaw.

"That is a curious inquiry," replied Vorik, thoughtfully. "Though I attempted to mate with her during my last Pon Farr she is romantically involved with Voyager's First Officer..."

"Vorik!" interrupted B'Elanna. "Don't you have some diagnostics to run?"

"Yes, Lieutenant. You'll excuse me," he nodded to Tamaris.

"I like that guy," snickered Tamaris with a mischievous twinkle in his eye."So you and the First Officer, huh?"

"Yes," she said walking over to a wall and pulling off a panel. "One thing I should show you..."

"Are you two serious?"

B'Elanna whirled around and stared up at Tamaris. She considered the tall alien for a moment. He looked a little more laid back than his crewmates, with his long shaggy hair and easy smile and he seemed harmless enough but something about him told her not to take him too seriously. Still, maybe Vorik was right about laying down the rules.

"Praefectus," she said sternly. "Even though I said we would skip over protocol for now, you should understand personal conversation is to be kept to a minimum on duty."

"Well alright then," said Tamaris. B'Elanna gave him a sour look. "Aye Lieutenant?"

"Better," she nodded and went back to the panel. "As I was saying, something you need to be aware of are these right here." She pointed to what looked like a bag full of fluid. "Bio-neural gel packs. These allow commands to travel through the ship as fast as thoughts do through a humanoid brain. The thing is, when they go down, there's a whole slew of new problems. If you run into an issue that doesn't fall under normal warp engine failures it's probably one of these."

"What kind of problems do you run into?"

"Well, for one thing, they can become infected like organisms can. We had to give the ship a fever once."

"Really. I'd love to hear..."

"Excuse me, Lieutenant?" Tamaris thought he saw B'Elanna cringe when she heard the voice. The two turned to see Jenny Delaney standing behind them clutching a padd.

"What is it, Ensign?"

"I have a work order here," she replied but she wasn't looking at B'Elanna. Instead she was staring around engineering as if she were looking for someone.

"Let's have it," sighed B'Elanna, irritably holding out a hand. Jenny turned the padd over. As B'Elanna was reading it Jenny spotted who she was searching for and gave them a wiggly fingered wave. Tamaris looked to see who it was and stifled a laugh when he saw it was Vorik. The Vulcan was confusedly looking over his shoulder, obviously unsure if the greeting was for him. Finally he turned back and returned it with a nod and a perplexed expression.

"Ensign, this is the same request for maintenance you put in last week," said B'Elanna with annoyance.

"Yes," replied Jenny, "and the panel in astrometrics still isn't fixed. Couldn't Ensign Vorik..."

"No, and for the same reason as the last time, and the time before that and the time before that. This isn't an emergency or even a priority and Vorik is extremely busy at the moment."

"But now you have the Zahorans on board he should have more time."

"Actually," said B'Elanna, "You make a good point. There _is_ a Zahoran assigned to astrometrics with you. Have her fix your panel."

"But..."

"Enough, Ensign," said B'Elanna, shoving the padd back in Jenny's hand. "And if you put in any more frivolous service requests I'm reporting it. Understood?"

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"Dismissed."

Tamaris smiled to himself as B'Elanna went back to her rundown of the ship's layout. He was going to enjoy working with this one.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Chakotay was taking his nightly walk by the river. He and Kathryn had been married happily for three months but the question of permanence still irked him. He came to a stop at several large boulders that jutted out into the water in the middle of a clearing and had been weathered smooth from the plasma storms. He had brought his medicine bundle with him tonight and this was the spot he liked most to sit in when he took his spirit walks. The rushing of the river next to him was almost calming enough in and of itself to send him to his deep meditative state needed to find his guide.

Chakotay stepped up on the rock and took a good long look at the clearing around him. The moon was much closer here than on Old Earth and it lit the river and the forest well. He sat and spread out his bundle. It had been the same since he'd put it together: the stone from a river at his childhood home, the black bird's wing, and the akoonah. It had been a while since he had taken a spirit walk. Lately they had not brought him the same satisfaction he was accustomed to from them. He stared at the items spread out before him and, for the first time since he'd assembled the bundle, thought it was missing something. Chakotay slid off the rock, removed his clothing and waded into the river.

After Chakotay had dried and dressed, he came back to the bundle and laid down what he'd found. Even in the half light of the moon he could tell that the fresh water mollusk shell was painted with a blushing salmon color. Fiery, he'd thought, in color and spirit. Its former inhabitant had wedged it in the rocks and mud of the river bed and it stood straight up, stubbornly resisting the ever present current. It would complement the darker aspects of the collection nicely. Chakotay laid his hand on the akoonah and closed his eyes.

When he reopened his eyes in the spirit world, Chakotay found himself still in the woods on New Earth. His walks had been taking him there since just a few weeks after they'd been stranded. The other person in the woods was there too. They had appeared later. He'd never seen that person, and though he'd tried to approach them a few times, they were always just out of his reach. Occasionally, Chakotay worried about their safety, but his spirit guide had ignored the being, so he didn't think too much about it beyond curiosity.

This night, he came upon his father, Kolopak sitting on a log and Chakotay took a seat next to him.

"Hello, Chakotay, it has been a long time since I've seen you."

"I've been busy. I'm married now."

"Then you were spending your time where you should," Kolopak smiled and his eyes twinkled. "I am happy for you, but I see something is still troubling you."

"Yes," he replied. "You know our situation here."

"All alone," said his father. "Are you worried that she chose you because she had no other alternative?"

"No," said Chakotay. "I know she loves me."

"Then what is it?"

"I worry that our marriage isn't 'real.' If we were anywhere else, there would have been a ceremony, or a celebration. We would have shared it with our friends and family."

"You need others to validate the bond between you?"

"No, that's not it either."

"In your heart, Chakotay, is she your wife?"

"Yes," he said with energy.

"And she feels that you are her husband?"

"Absolutely."

"Then you are married." Kolopak could see, though, that something still bothered his son. He changed direction. "Who is that in the woods, Chakotay?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I've tried to meet them, but they're always just out of my reach."

"How does this person make you feel?"

Chakotay thought for a moment. "Safe, comforted, but I also feel anxious for their well being. I want to protect them."

"How long have they been with you?"

"A little over a year the first anniversary of coming here."

"Did anything significant happen on that day?"

"Yes!" said Chakotay, a light turning on. "That's the day I believe Kathryn finally truly accepted her life here."

"Who is that in the woods, Chakotay?"

He didn't need to answer his father. He knew whose spirit it was and that she'd been with him well before they had been 'married.'

"You see?" said Kolopak. "The two of you have been bonded longer than you realize. I am overjoyed for you, my son. People love each other many different ways and there are many kinds of love that are strong enough to build a happy marriage on, but what you have found is rare. The bonding of your spirits transcends the human customs that try to mimic it. All that is needed for those who have found their counterpart, is for both souls to accept it. Her presence in the woods means she has. She will be with you always, Chakotay, no matter the earthly distance between you."

"Thank you, father."

It was very late when Chakotay got home. He had gone for another swim after his walk to thank the river for the new piece (and peace) it had helped to bring him. He could see the light Kathryn had left on for him from a long way off, as he walked up to the house. He'd hoped she'd waited up for him. He wanted to tell her everything he'd just learned.


	4. Chapter 4

"I must say," said the EMH to Blouxe as they sat at the Doctor's desk with Nellio and Whed in sick bay. "That is the quietest baby I have ever heard. I was a little apprehensive when you said he'd be accompanying you to all your shifts but now I don't think I foresee a problem."

"He's not normally like this," replied Blouxe, who had the infant on her lap. "He's been quiet ever since he came aboard."

"He's completely healthy," added Nellio. "We've checked everything physical there is to check. We think it might be simply his response to space travel. He should get fussy again soon enough."

"As long he doesn't disturb any of the patients," replied the Doctor. "May I hold him?"

"Of course," said Blouxe, passing the baby to the Doctor who smiled at Whed as he bounced him on his knee. At first the infant's expression remained stoic but after a few moments the Doctor was able to coax a giggle out of him.

"You certainly seem to have a way with children," said Nellio.

"Of course," replied the EMH proudly. "I'm programmed with child psychology subroutines for over five hundred species of humanoid."

"Programmed?" exclaimed Blouxe. "So you're…"

"The Emergency Medical Hologram," answered the Doctor. "Didn't you know?"

"Well that explains…" Blouxe hesitated as she eyed her husband, "why you don't have a name. Have you thought about taking one?"

"I have. I find it to be a difficult decision, however."

"Are there emitters everywhere on Voyager?" asked Nellio. "I thought I saw you down in the mess hall earlier."

"I'm able to go where ever I please, actually," the Doctor replied. "Even off the ship. A few years back I acquired a mobile emitter courtesy of a Captain Braxton and a time travel incident. The Temporal Prime Directive does not allow me to elaborate, however." The Doctor's attention gravitated back to Whed. "He really is very quiet," he remarked again, wrinkling his brow. "I could run a neural scan on him if you like. Space travel shouldn't have any ill effects on children but you never know. It will only take a second."

"No, that's quite all right," said Blouxe quickly, taking Whed back into her lap. "We'll keep an eye on him. He'll be fine."

"Well, if you're sure…"

"Very," replied Nellio. "I think you were about to show us that program on human physiology?"

"Of course," replied the EMH and pulled up the data on the monitor. He then went into the presentation highlighting the issues common to humans while working on a ship but in the back of his mind he couldn't help wonder if the Zahorans hadn't been entirely forthcoming about themselves.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Harry stood at his station in astrometrics trying to keep his head in his project which was proving difficult with Helia there working across the room from him. He'd just stolen another glance at her. He couldn't help it. Her slender figure was accented well in her closefitting Zahoran uniform and the shiny lime green tendrils of hair that escaped her bun caressed her neck too perfectly. Harry had thought he'd caught her rich emerald eyes flick his way but her thick jade eyelashes shaded them well and he couldn't be sure. Harry was almost completely entranced by her beauty but then she'd open her mouth.

In the beginning, as Harry usually does, he gave Helia the benefit of the doubt and tried to get to know her a little better. Helia wasn't having any of it. All Harry's attempts at polite conversation were not only met with irritation but with criticism as well. What made it worse was that the more she chided him the more mistakes he made and she always found every single one.

"You mapped this sector wrong…again," sniped Helia from her console.

"_You_ did that one, remember, last shift," retorted Harry.

"No, you edited some of my work at the end and screwed it up."

"I clearly remember…"

"Check the logs if you don't believe me."

"Fine." Harry pulled up the database where they logged their tasks. "It says…" Harry ended the sentence in a grumble.

"What was that?" said Helia. "Didn't catch that. Did the logs say _you _worked on that sector?"

Harry grumbled again.

"It's almost cute how surprised you are," smirked Helia. "Are you finished with your chart yet?"

"Not just yet," muttered Harry.

"Well, I'm done with mine and I can't go any further until you finish. I'm going back to quarters to take a nap."

"The shift isn't over yet," said Harry sternly.

"Are you _ordering _me to stay?" asked Helia incredulously. "Good luck with that."

"What do you mean?"

"_I_ am a Praefectus, first class," she replied. "As I understand it, that is equivalent of a lieutenant commander in your ranking system and as you are only a lieutenant, I therefore out rank you, which means, I'm taking a nap."

"This is still my ship…"

"Maybe so, but would you just think about it? I have _nothing_ to do until your slow butt picks up the pace. Do you really want me standing behind you breathing down your neck? I don't know how you get _any_ work done with me in here as it is what with all the time you waste staring at me."

"What… I don't…" spluttered Harry.

"Don't try to act like I haven't caught you a million times," she snorted. "Look, I know I'm not the most attractive Zahoran woman but you really don't need to rub in how hideous you think I am by gawking at me."

"Wait… What?"

"So, like I said, I'm going back to quarters. Com me when you're caught up." And with that, Helia flounced out of the room.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Kathryn was trying to read a book but couldn't concentrate. The lines kept running together. She couldn't get her mind off Chakotay's nightly walks. He swore there was nothing wrong but they still worried her, and tonight he was out later than usual, though she didn't have to wait much longer. The door clicked open and he came in.

She told herself she wouldn't go to him when he got home but she was always bad at pretending to be angry when she wasn't. He smiled at her lovingly when she walked up and planted a warm kiss on her lips.

"I'm glad you're still awake," he said.

"You're all wet!" she exclaimed. "What happened to you?"

"I went for a swim," he answered. "I needed another piece for my medicine bundle." He went over to a table and opened it up to show her.

"I found this," he said as he held up the shell. She took it from him and turned it over in her hands.

"It's beautiful."

"It was standing resolutely in the mud, refusing to let the current knock it over. You see, it's you."

"What? Stubborn?"

"I thought small, but strong and fearless," laughed Chakotay. "This medicine bundle is supposed to be a representation of me. I think the reason my walks have been so unfulfilling lately is that I was missing a part of myself. Now I'm complete," he said, placing the shell with the rest.

"Did you find what you were looking for tonight?"

"I found out who the person in the woods is," he answered.

"Should you be telling me this?" she asked.

"I don't see why not," Chakotay said. "The person is you too. We've been bonded a long time, Kathryn, long before we acknowledged it ourselves. I'm sorry I set so much stock in rituals and ceremony."

"There's nothing to be sorry for."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Lorrit's lobes drooped sadly as he walked down the corridor. It had been another rough training session with Ayala ending in both of them spending the second half of the shift in sick bay with a dermal regenerator. Lorrit had no clue how the accident had happened but he did know that it would go in Ayala's evaluation. He sighed to himself as he thought about it and tried to ignore everyone who passed until one person wouldn't let him.

"Are you ok?"

"Ok? What does that mean," asked Lorrit as he looked up into the face of Jenny Delaney.

"Is everything good with you?" she said.

"No, not really," said Lorrit. "Today on the bridge didn't go so well."

"Ooh, yeah, I heard," replied Jenny, in a sympathetic tone. "My sister told me about it. Ayala was pretty mad."

"I still don't know what I did," said Lorrit. "I'm usually pretty good with hardware but I guess this time I just didn't know what I was doing."

"You don't know that," said Jenny soothingly. "Come with me. I was on the holodeck earlier when I got called to astrometrics for a moment. I was just going back. We can replay what happened and see if it was your fault.

Lorrit was quiet as he followed Jenny to holodeck two. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to replay his mistakes over and over again, especially in front of someone he barely knew. And seeing Ayala's uniform go up in flames again…

"Here we are," she said, tapping on the control panel next to the entrance. "Computer, run diagnostic program for the bridge, stardate 51938.5."

"Vulcan meditation technique program for Ensign Jenny Delaney already running," answered the computer. "Would you like to terminate the current program?"

"Yes, end program," said Jenny quickly, eyeing Lorrit. Lorrit's ears twitched with curiosity but she seemed embarrassed so he said nothing.

"Vulcan meditation program is not currently saved. Would you like…"

"No! Computer, just end program!"

"Vulcan meditation program terminated. Starting diagnostic."

"Is the computer normally that difficult?" asked Lorrit.

"No," sighed Jenny, rolling her eyes. "It's probably Lieutenant Kim or Commander Paris. They like to tease me about… well they give me a hard time sometimes."

"That's not very nice of them."

"They don't mean any harm," she sighed. "Here we go. Computer, start replay." As they walked into the holodeck Lorrit saw himself standing at the opps station. At the panel next to him was Ayala looking surly. The simulation of the bridge incident began.

_Damn, thing! _ said Ayala. _It's been acting up all afternoon._

_ Maybe if you'd let the last command finish before inputting another one… _began Lorrit.

_ That's not it, _snapped Ayala. _You must have done something to it. Don't touch anything else until I fix whatever you did._

_ Let me just try…_

Ayala didn't let Lorrit finish. He shoved him out of the way and began punching commands into the controls and swearing as the computer completely froze. Off to the side where Ayala wasn't looking, Lorrit began feeling the panel in several places. When he got to the front he jerked his hand back and sucked on a finger. Immediately, Lorrit bent down and began unfastening the lower front panel. Ayala heard him and turned to see what he was doing.

_What's that all about?_

_ The console felt hot so I thought…_

_ Quit being stupid and…ahhhh….._

Ayala never got to finish his sentence. Lorrit had succeeded in removing the panel but as soon as he got it off a fountain of sparks flew out and ignited both Ayala and Lorrit's clothes. Ayala danced around attempting to put out the flames. Lorrit managed to stay calm however and smother his own uniform and also put out Ayala's in short order. He then tapped his combadge.

_Emergency transport. Lorrit and Ayala to sickbay._

As the two disappeared, Tuvok, having seen the commotion, had already grabbed an extinguisher and put out the terminal. Once the fire in the panel was out, Tuvok knelt down and pulled out a charred component and held it up to examine it.

"Computer, freeze program," said Jenny. "See look," she said to Lorrit as they both bent over to see what Tuvok held up. "It was an equipment malfunction. If you wouldn't have stopped to take a look, all those sparks would have been flying around inside the console and maybe caused even more damage and either one of you could have been seriously injured. The mistake here was Ayala's. He should have noticed the panel heating up way before."

"But what about his report?" asked Lorrit. "If he didn't even realize he made a mistake. I'm sure he'll end up blaming me."

"That won't matter," said Jenny. "Captain Tuvok was obviously looking into the matter so he already knows what really happened. Is Ayala always that rude to you?"

"I know I can be frustrating to work with sometimes," replied Lorrit sadly.

"I don't see that," answered Jenny. "What I saw was you recognizing a problem and taking quick action in an emergency. The Captain had to have noticed too. Maybe your problem is just Ayala."

"Maybe," said Lorrit but he didn't seem to believe her. All his own crewmates seemed to take the same attitude.

"You know, you look like you need some cheering up," said Jenny. "Computer, run beach program." The scene quickly changed from the bridge to Neelix's beachside resort. "How about a friendly drink?"

"Alright," said Lorrit perking up immediately. "But I'm tired of talking about duties. Maybe you can tell me about Vulcan meditation. I'm curious how you became interested in that. Aren't you human?"

"Um, well," stuttered Jenny, "that's a long story."

"I don't mind," replied Lorrit with a smile, his lobes twitching. "I always have an ear for a friend."

"Ok, then," said Jenny, smiling in her turn. The two sat down at a table and ordered some cocktails.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Kathryn and Chakotay looked at each in the moon light as they lay in bed together. They had made it an even later night talking things over in more detail and 'celebrating' their newly solidified union. He had a hand draped casually on her bare rump. She looked over his face as she thought about something he'd said earlier. _You're a member of my tribe now. The spirits watch over you as I do._

"I know we said there's really no need for a ceremony between us," she began, "and I agree, but I have an idea."


	5. Chapter 5

"What's your idea?"asked Chakotay.

"I want a tattoo," Kathryn replied.

"What?" he laughed.

"There was a little part of you that for a long time thought I might run away."

"I'm well past that, Kathryn."

"I know, but then you should understand that a tiny part of me still wants to claim a spot by your side irrevocably. I'd say tattoos are about as permanent as you can get."

"Ok," he said smiling and running his fingers over where the image would eventually go. This seemed perfect. "In the morning..."

"No, let's do it now," she said eagerly.

"Alright," he said. "But if you want to do it right now, I'll have to replicate the ink. The real stuff takes time to make."

"Fine by me," she said, hopping out of bed and putting on her night shirt. He grabbed his pajama pants off the floor, put them on, and followed her into the kitchen. He sat down in front of the computer console to pull up the ingredients so that he could program the recipe for the ink into the replicator.

"I can't seem to find the chemical that makes it indigo," Chakotay said. Kathryn came up behind him, cup of coffee already in hand.

"Can you use a plant?" she asked. "I've seen a particular vine here that makes a lovely indigo flower. See if you can find it in the New Earth database."

"There it is," he said. "It looks non-toxic. Let me double check it when it's combined with the other ingredients." The computer ran through its calculations.

"Looks safe," she confirmed.

"Ok. You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Chakotay went to the replicator and made the ink, supplies, and a cup of coffee for himself. They both sat down at a table. Chakotay set up a mirror to use his own tattoo as a guide. He took a few sips of the coffee and grimaced.

"It's an acquired taste," laughed Kathryn.

"I know," he said, "but I'm a little sleepy. I think I ought to be alert if I'm about to mark something permanent on your face. Don't worry," he laughed when he saw her expression falter for a second. "I'll non-permanently draw everything on first. That'll give the caffeine time to kick in."

He fell to work. She enjoyed the sensation of the meat of his hand using her cheek to steady itself as he drew. He finished quickly and she turned to look in the mirror. Chakotay sipped his coffee as she explored the lines with her fingers and smiled. She liked them very much.

"Don't smudge it," he said. "We haven't gotten to the hard part yet."

"Will it hurt?" she asked.

"A little at first," he replied, "but after awhile your body's natural pain killers kick in."

"Alright, let's do it."

Chakotay picked up the needle and drew a few lines on his own arm to get the ink started. Kathryn leaned forward and placed both hands on his thighs to steady herself. He began the tattoo. After a few minutes it felt like she'd scraped her face on some pavement but it didn't hurt nearly as much as she imagined. He pricked her skin over and over with the tiny needle alternately wiping away the blood with a clean towel being as gentle as possible. She squeezed his thigh once when he was a little too rough.

"Am I hurting you? We'll give you a moment."

"No," she said. "I'm a tough girl. Small but fearless, remember? Keep going."

It only took about a half hour and two cups of coffee a piece to complete. She was thankful that his tattoo had come from an alien culture with much simpler ideas of facial markings than the ancient Aztecs or Mayans. Kathryn looked in the mirror again. This time, the left side of her face was red and swollen under the blue lines. Chakotay was still wiping away a few drops of blood.

"I'm not done with you yet," he said. He opened a jar of a jelly like substance he'd also replicated and began smoothing it on the tattoo. At once the burning stopped and the swelling began to go down.

"This is an antibiotic," he said. "I can't just heal it or else the ink might not take. It has to heal naturally. We'll put this on it every few hours for a week. When you go outside, you'll need to cover it so it doesn't get infected." Kathryn smiled at him.

"We really are one now, Chakotay," she said as she caressed his tattoo. She got up and walked toward the bedroom.

"Did you want to go to bed?" he asked disappointedly. "I'll probably be up for awhile." He waved his coffee mug as evidence.

"I wasn't planning on sleeping," she replied. Chakotay's dimples came to life and followed her to the bedroom.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Lorrit was almost skipping when he walked into the mess hall for his lunch with Jenny. Opps check had gone better than he could have ever hoped for. Once he walked on the bridge to see Ayala sitting at the conn and Lieutenant Kim waiting for him at his station he barely held in his squeal of happiness. Out of everyone on board (besides Jenny) Harry was the most understanding.

"How did it go?" asked Jenny as Lorrit took his seat.

"Passed everything!" said Lorrit, lobes fanning happily. "And I didn't catch anyone on fire."

"Ayala passed you?" replied Jenny, her eyebrows popping up in surprise.

"Nope. Didn't you hear? He's officially the Sr. Helmsman. Lt. Kim was the one who did my Opps check."

"Harry? That's great!"

"He even told me Lt. Ayala has been doing his shift logs wrong for years. That's why he keeps accidentally erasing them all the time."

"Told you! So now what?"

"I'm in the regular duty rotation as of next week," said Lorrit proudly. "Now tell me how this morning went." Jenny's face fell and she put her forehead down on the table with a clunk. "That bad?"

"Worse."

_Jenny hoped she was hiding how nervous she was as she walked into Vorik's quarters. She had finally got up the nerve to ask for help with her meditation techniques after she'd been practicing on the holodeck for weeks. Of course this was all just an excuse to spend time with the illusive Vulcan but she was having difficulty finding any other way. He seemed oblivious to her hints that she wanted to get to know him better so one day she blurted out that she was stressed over the new crew members and wanted to try meditation to help her stay calm during her shifts. After that Vorik had all types of suggestions and before she knew it, she was a full time student on the holodeck. Now that she'd been through enough preparation on her own, Vorik had decided she was ready for her first session with a live Vulcan. She only hoped he didn't expect her to go through the Kolinar someday._

"_Are you ready?" asked Vorik as she knelt across the table from him and placed the meditation lamp she'd brought in front of her._

"_I think so." The tone in his voice made her a little worried. Jenny had prepared for a lesson. Vorik made it sound like it was life or death._

"_Did you make your own lamp?" he asked picking it up and examining it._

"_I did," she replied. Jenny had always enjoyed crafts with her grandmother when she was young. It was a form of meditation for her in and of itself; concentrating hard on every detail until the whole rest of the world just went away. She'd sanded and stained the wood herself until it was smooth and shiny as pottery. In addition, she carefully hand painted the Vulcan markings on the bowl and the arm. She'd pulled up a hundred different pictures from Voyager's database to make sure she got it right. It needed it to be perfect. Something in the Vulcan style demanded it. Often the sweeping lines of Vulcan symbols were simple but Jenny found them beautiful as well. She needed to do them justice. The only bit she'd replicated was the metal bowl where the flame would sit._

"_You did well," said Vorik, as pleased as a Vulcan could sound. "And do you know why the body of the lamp is made of wood?"_

"_The fire represents chaos," Jenny replied, ready with her answer. "The wood is to remind us that fire has the power to engulf what surrounds it if it is not controlled as do emotions within ourselves."_

"_And the metal bowl?"_

"_The metal bowl controls the chaos as the mind should the emotion."_

"_Excellent. Let us meditate on this fact for our first lesson." Vorik clasped his hands with his forefingers steepled and pointed at the lamp. Jenny followed suit trying hard to channel her emotions through the point her fingers made. She stayed still for a few minutes but her mind wouldn't cooperate. In the back of her head a little voice kept niggling at her. 'You've got him to yourself finally,' it said. 'What are you doing sitting still? Talk to the man. You'll never get him if you don't talk to him.' Part of her believed it. Part of her told herself Vorik would probably appreciate it more if she really went through the lesson. In the end, however, the silence became oppressive._

"_Have you… did you hear any of the rumors about the Borg?" she stuttered out quietly. Vorik's eyebrows shot up as he looked at her but he said nothing. She went on. "I heard they're destroyed. Some of the crew want to find out who did it and ask them to help refit Voyager."_

"_I've heard no such thing," replied Vorik. "Let us concentrate." They both put their heads down again but soon Jenny realized concentrating was a lost cause. In spite of all her better judgment, she tried again._

"_Do you like your Zahoran in engineering? No one in astrometrics like ours; Harry especially. She…"_

"_Do you often talk this much during meditation?" Vorik interrupted irritably._

"_No," Jenny replied, meekly. "I'm usually alone."_

"_Then why do we not try the exercise as you practiced it?"_

_Jenny said nothing in return. She felt her face grow hot as she sheepishly closed her eyes and returned to the meditative pose, glad that Vorik's eyes were closed so he could not see the bright redness of her face._

"And then he made another appointment with me not because he enjoyed our time together but because I 'so _obviously _needed more practice.' I feel so stupid I could die." Jenny finally lifted her head off the table when she finished her story. Lorrit looked thoughtful.

"Are you really interested in Vulcan meditation?" he asked finally.

"Yes! No. Well, I don't know. I don't pay close attention to the lessons. I just memorize what to say and do."

"Maybe you should try actually meditating next time."

"But what if I hate it?"

"Then maybe you shouldn't be trying to date a Vulcan." Jenny looked miserable. Lorrit went on. "It just seems to me that common interests only work if you're _interested_. If you pretend to be one thing and he likes that then he doesn't really like _you _and it's _you_ who he needs to fall for if the two of you are to be happy, right?"

"But I'm…"

"A kind and generous person. There's no reason he shouldn't like you. Just try to be his friend for now. Give his interests a chance and keep at them but only if it turns out to be something you really like doing. Then, when the next Pon Farr rolls around, you'll see if he likes you."

"That's not for years," Jenny objected weakly. "What if I don't like _him_ by then?"

"Then he wasn't the right one," shrugged Lorrit.

Jenny finally gave up a small smile.

"How come you know so much about relationships?" she asked.

"Do I?" spluttered the Zahoran. "It just seemed like sense, is all."

Jenny smiled a little wider.

"I'd better go," she said standing. "Don't you have another poor female with a broken heart to talk to?" Lorrit stood with her and squeezed her shoulder in farewell.

"Not exactly," he replied.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"How's lunch?" asked Harry as he set down his tray and sat across from Tom in the mess hall. Tom was shoveling food into his face with apparent relish.

"Great," said Tom after he swallowed. "Can't quite put my finger on what this mashed stuff is, but it's pretty delicious."

"Pureed leola root," answered Harry, with a laugh as Tom almost spit out his last mouthful.

"Really? I could hardly tell." They both looked up toward the kitchen. Neelix stood in his usual place dishing out the food but Ennica soon came up behind him with a replacement tray for his now empty bowl of mash. She whispered something in Neelix's ear and they both giggled. Ennica jabbed him playfully in the arm before going back to the stoves.

"The cooking certainly has gotten a lot better since Ennica's been helping," said Harry, "and Neelix's mood has improved."

"I never thought he'd get over Kes, especially after she ran off with Zahir. I think he still hoped they'd get back together," said Tom. "Maybe he's finally moved on."

"Maybe."

"How did Opps check go with Lorrit today?"

"Better than I expected. He did pretty well, once he didn't have Ayala and his former crewmates yelling at him. I think he'll be alright in the end."

"I'm glad. I couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy. Maybe he's just under the same kind of positive influence as Neelix," said Tom gesturing behind him. Harry looked over the table across the room and saw Lorrit sitting with Jenny Delaney deep in discussion, Lorrit's ears twitching with interest as he listened.

"Lorrit and Jenny Delaney?" said Harry incredulously.

"She's been on the prowl since she and Hogan split," replied Tom. "I thought she was after Vorik but…"

"Lorrit just doesn't seem her type," interrupted Harry.

"You should have made a move when you had the chance."

"I was interested in Meghan, remember?"

"Oh that's right," laughed Tom. "She's with Ayala now. You only go for the impossible ones."

"That's not true," grumbled Harry. "See. I don't think they're together."

Tom turned around and looked at Jenny and Lorrit. They were getting up and Lorrit was putting a sympathetic hand on Jenny's shoulder but that was all that happened before she left. Lorrit didn't sit down right away however. Tom and Harry turned to see who he was waiting for and couldn't help but stare when they saw who it was. Helia had just come into the mess hall. She glanced quickly at Harry then immediately put her nose in the air and walked over to Lorrit. He gave her a quick hug as they sat down at the table. Harry let out an almost imperceptible sigh. Tom smirked to himself.

"Harry," he said, coaxingly. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"What?"

"You like Helia, don't you?"

"I don't like Helia."

"Harry..."

"I don't like her," said Harry, indignantly. "She's rude. She's argumentative. She knows her stuff in astrometrics but her attitude makes it impossible to get any work done."

"Harry..."

"Alright fine. She's gorgeous. And she's funny. She just hates me."

"Are you sure? She acts like that to pretty much everybody."

"Not Lorrit, lately."

Tom turned around again. Lorrit was patting Helia's hand affectionately.

"Lorrit's just a nice guy," said Tom. "There's probably nothing going on."

"Yeah, maybe," said Harry sadly. "How's B'Elanna getting along with her Zahoran?"

Tom snickered.

"Not so good."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tamaris paced in front of B'Elanna's station in engineering. He knew she was early to her shifts so he had been earlier. He regretted their last encounter; starting a fight with Lieutenant Torres over a stash of unused isolinnear chips. He knew they were hers but he'd provoked her anyway to get himself mad, and this wasn't the first time he'd done it, or the third, or the fifth… it was an old Zahoran defense mechanism: the Vinilari. When one Zahoran wanted to hide their feelings from another they had to invoke a more immediate stronger feeling to mask the original. Sometimes they blocked guilt, covered a surprise, made up for self-consciousness, hid unrequited feelings. It was a reflex his species had evolved over the millennia. Lots of other telepathic peoples used it too but now he was cursing it. He'd come up with some ideas for Voyager and it was important that B'Elanna listen to him; no, not important: necessary, but she hated him right now.

_The Borg shall perish._

_Argh._ Tamaris paused and shook his head to quiet the interloper in his thoughts. He glanced around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. Vorik was staring at him with a raised brow from his station across the room but soon went back to his work.

_ Do you hear it too? _Tamaris thought. _We know your kind are telepaths, but you seem oblivious. If you heard what we've heard you'd be afraid. Even you Vulcans who keep your emotions so close._

Tamaris took a seat behind B'Elanna's console and rubbed his face with his hands to get the latest intrusion out of his head as he prepared for his presentation to B'Elanna. The Zahorans had run across other species before that impose their telepathy on others but this message was for anyone who could pick it up. _The Borg shall perish._ Though Tamaris' crew mates were far from dismayed at the idea, he suspected once the Borg_ had_ perished this unknown messenger would move onto someone else. Still, he couldn't be sure. Whoever they were, these new ones felt different, more alien than any mind he'd ever touched; even more so than the species from the Alpha Quadrant. He could not be certain of their intent but somehow he knew it wasn't friendly. The best thing would be to err on the safe side and move out of that part of space as quickly as possible and Tamaris has some ideas on how to do that. He hoped the surly chief of engineering would be at least a little bit amenable to his suggestions. He tried to nail down what he wanted to say but it was nearly impossible with _the message_ constantly running through his head. _The Borg shall perish. The Borg shall perish. The Borg… _ He screwed up his face and flexed his lobes quickly to disrupt the mind wave.

"Something you ate?" asked B'Elanna as she entered engineering. "You're in my chair."

"Uh, no," he replied quickly as he got up. "It's just…" He didn't bother to say just what.

"You wanted to see me?" snapped B'Elanna irritably as she sat and logged on to her console. She didn't even give him a glance.

"You always seem to be open to your staff's ideas. Well, I have a few." He handed her a padd and she paged through it. _Do all Klingons look so hacked off all the time,_ he thought. _There's got to be a sense of humor in there somewhere._ "I know some of these modifications aren't perfected," he said aloud, "but you pull them off and you'll have this ship moving faster than Jenny Delaney on a Vulcan during the Pon Farr."

B'Elanna had been trying to keep a critical expression but snorted with laughter in spite of herself. _Finally_ thought Tamaris. He kept a straight face when B'Elanna looked up at him, but his eyes shone brightly at her when he realized he'd broken through the thick command wall. B'Elanna considered him a moment. What was it that made her dislike him so much? Was it that he joked around all the time? He'd definitely grown more respectful since he'd gotten the feel for Starfleet protocol so that couldn't be it. First impression? Maybe. Was it how he did his job? She was an overall better engineer than he was but it was not as if he was incompetent. He was very good if truth be told. Many of the ideas he had were fairly insightful especially in light of the fact that he was entirely new to Alpha Quadrant technology. Maybe it was that her staff seemed to like him better. She'd noticed productivity during Tamaris' shifts slowly but steadily rising. It had passed Vorik's already and was creeping up on hers. She'd started wondering if maybe she should lighten up on her crew, but that wasn't her style. She didn't like second guessing herself like that and she didn't like Tamaris for making her do it. Maybe _that_ was her problem with the Zahoran. Maybe she should lighten up on _him. _Tamaris could sense B'Elanna relaxing when she spoke again. Still, he was surprised at what she said.

"I agree with you."

"You do?"

"Yes, but I've tried most of these already"

"Really?"

B'Elanna thought she saw Tamaris' ears twitch ever so slightly. She got the feeling that meant he was impressed but she wasn't quite sure.

"They're not bad ideas," she went on. "It's just they don't work within Starfleet hardware parameters and I don't exactly have access to everything I did when… when I was in the Maquis. Do you get what I mean?"

"I think I see."

They were both quiet for a moment.

"Did I ever tell you," asked B'Elanna, "that I was looking forward to someone from the Delta Quadrant in engineering?"

"No."

"I thought our staff needed some fresh ideas; needed someone who didn't have Starfleet tunnel vision, but then you turned out to be such a p'takh… I decided to be grateful for some time off and leave it at that."

"And now?"

"Well, you're still a p'takh."

"But my ideas?"

"Keep working on them. Protocol is all well and good for keeping a shift running smooth, but don't think you have to handicap yourself with Federation regulations. If something is mechanically possible and safe, I'm willing to try it."

"Thank you!" Tamaris stayed calm but his emerald eyes sparkled more than ever and B'Elanna could tell his ears were twitching to fan. "I'm going to need some help, though. Vorik for sure. He'll help keep us from getting too carried away on any one thing. And Emmons. She's got those tiny little hands that'll be good for the fine work and…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," interrupted B'Elanna. "I was offering encouragement, not resources. This is a pet project. If you thing I or Captain Tuvok for that matter will…" she trailed off. The normal radiance in Tamaris' eyes was gone. His ears were compressed so tight they were almost non-existent. It wasn't disappointment he was exhibiting as she thought at first. It was fear.

"We're going to _need_ these modifications," he said quietly. "Something is coming. We'll need them soon."

The tone in his voice told her he believed what he said.

"What's coming," asked B'Elanna as an unwanted tingle crept up her spine. "Did you spot something on sensors?"

"No," he replied. "You'll have to trust me on this."

Somehow, she did.

"Alright." She wished he'd quit staring at her. The greenness of his eyes penetrated into her thoughts but with it came understanding, a sense of things clinking into their places. He was right. She was certain. "I can't spare Vorik as much as you'd probably like but _I_ can help you and I know a few ensigns who have been pretty bored lately. We can get started next week."

"Good news!" said Tamaris. His smile returned and his ears fanned, but the twinkle did not return to his eyes. B'Elanna couldn't decide if she wanted to know what he feared or not.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Helia's ears twitched thoughtfully as she stood at her station in astrometrics. She was mulling over what Lorrit had said to her earlier that day. It seemed to make sense but Lorrit was so young… Maybe he still had some of the Illito in him: the baby instinct. There were some who kept a trace of it into their adulthood. Those Zahorans were said to be wise well beyond their years, but Lorrit? Maybe he was just right. The way she treated Harry could be the Reflex. Maybe that was why she was more evil to him than everyone else. Still, it was so much easier being rude. By the time Harry walked into astrometrics, however, she'd talked herself out of all the doubts Lorrit had raised.

"Nice of you to show up," she scolded, not even looking up from her console.

"I'm not late," Harry retorted.

"You're not early either."

"Maybe just this shift, could we work quietly?"

"But you'd miss all my pleasant chit-chat," she smirked, but as she did she saw Harry getting red in the face. _Oops. The finnel twig that broke the zaddert's back._

"Look," Harry yelled. Helia's ears collapsed as he bellowed at her. "I don't know how it was on the ship you came from but on Voyager there's something called _courtesy._ I don't care if you would rather throw me in Neelix's leola puree than work with me but during a shift, members of this crew are at least civil. Maybe_ all_ you Zahorans have problems with please and thank you. No wonder poor Lorrit never made anything of himself. From what I can tell he hasn't had a kind word from anybody since the ship crashed. Now that he's free of all of you he does a better job than half the ensigns on Voyager."

_Does he? Good for him!_ But out loud she spat back, "free of Ayala you mean. If anyone is rude, it's him."

"He is, but he's the exception in our crew, not the rule, and you're one to talk. You're the worst one of your whole bunch. You think just because you're pretty…"

"Oh!" exclaimed Helia, startled. "You think I'm _pretty_?"

Harry was momentarily taken aback by the sudden shyness in her voice.

"Of course but…"

_CRASH_

The ship lurched violently throwing Harry and Helia to the floor. The red alert sounded as they clambered back up to their consoles.

"I have to get to the bridge," said Harry.

"What? What is it?' asked Helia, sensing Harry's fear despite his calm front.

"Borg."


	6. Chapter 6

"What's going on," asked Harry running onto the bridge and stumbling a little as Voyager took fire.

"Borg cube came out of transwarp just in time to avoid a collision," said Tom. The ship tilted again to dodge another shot. "Now they're firing on us."

"Not even a resistance is futile?" remarked Harry taking his station. "How rude."

CRASH

"We're hit with a photon torpedo," said Lorrit, from opps. "Shields down to twenty percent."

"Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Ayala," said Tuvok. "Pattern Paris Alpha eight pi." Tom had to smile to himself at Tuvok's flight pattern choice. Perhaps the Captain was starting to trust him after all. Ayala pulled Voyager into a wide arc heading back toward the cube. Voyager fired heavily on the Borg until it was under the hull and skimmed close to an edge of the cube where there was a blind seam in the Borg's targeting sensors. They would only need to follow the edge for a moment and shoot away from the cube at top speed before the Borg detected them. All they had to do was wait a few… The intruder alarm when off.

A group of Borg had transported onto the bridge. Reports came in from all over the ship of Borg on all decks. The crew on the bridge grabbed their phasers and fired wildly at the drones. A few went down but the other four had already adapted.

One Borg grabbed Harry around the neck and drove his fist into his shoulder. Harry seemed to stiffen and the Borg let him go, moving towards Lorrit. Tuvok quickly adjusted his phaser to a rotating modulation and shot his assailant and Ayala's in short order. Tom did the same and took out the last two. They all quickly went back to stations.

"Mr. Ayala," said Tuvok. "Set up for a run at the cube."

"Captain?" said Tom.

"There are too many Borg aboard and now that they know where we are we cannot hope to outrun their ship. I will not let Voyager become assimilated." Tom nodded grimly and Ayala moved the ship into position.

"Wait, Captain," yelled Lorrit from opps. "I've almost got it!"

"Quickly, Mr. Lorrit."

"Now! I've beamed them all out into space and scrambled their sensors for the next minute."

"Any heading, Mr. Ayala," ordered Tuvok. "Maximum warp!"

Tom looked back at opps as the ship shot off.

"I'm impressed Lorrit," he said. "How did you do that?"

"Unlocking Borg encryptions was one of my hobbies when we were stuck on the planet. It was about the only data we had to study. I used to stay up all night sometimes, trying to break into it."

"So that's why you were sleeping…"

"Captain! Commander!" shouted Lorrit, suddenly. Tom and Tuvok turned to see what their opps officer was pointing at over on tactical. To Tom's horror, he saw Harry slowly moving towards him; Borg implants sprouting on his forehead, neck, and arms. Without stopping to think, Tom grabbed his phaser and blasted Harry directly in the chest. Only after Lieutenant Kim hit the ground did Tom check the setting. It was set to kill.

Lorrit slowly walked over to where Harry lay. He knelt beside him placing a hand on Harry's neck.

"Commander," said Lorrit, looking up at Tom. "He's dead."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

The first month after Chakotay had tattooed his wife had been bliss. He and Kathryn had felt that they'd finally settled into every aspect of their new life together but this morning she'd been acting strangely. He'd woken up alone, first of all. No matter, she was only in the bathroom, but he'd been sitting at the table for a half an hour now and her breakfast was cold. Chakotay had knocked on the door several times but each time she said she'd be right out. She wasn't yet. He went to try again when the door finally opened. She looked at Chakotay and gave him a half smile. He went to their replicator and got her a cup of coffee.

"Everything ok?" he asked as he handed her the mug.

"Yes, fine," she replied looking down at the steaming dark liquid.

"You're breakfast is cold. I'll get you a new plate."

"Thank you, Chakotay," she said hurriedly, "but I'm not hungry." She kept staring at the coffee in the mug until she finally put it down on the table. "I think I need to go for a walk." With that, she stepped quickly out the door leaving Chakotay more confused than ever. When he went into the bedroom, he found their old combadges out on the night table.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Lorrit knew he was running late when he came into the mess hall. The meeting among the Zahorans had already commenced. All his crewmates were sitting around a table eating quietly. Their lobes were fanned and twitching in turn. Whed was sitting on Blouxe's lap and appeared to be listening as well, though at only two human years, it was unlikely he knew what was going on. Looking around at the Starfleet officers in the room, Lorrit hoped no one was watching too closely. He nodded at Krestic as he took his seat. When he fanned his ears, he almost jumped at the loud telepathic debate that had been going on.

_You certainly took your time getting here,_ thought Krestic. _We got you a plate but it's probably cold now. If you want something hot, you'll have to replicate it yourself._

_ No, this is fine, Tribunus, _replied Lorrit as he dug in. He tried to catch up on the conversation as he ate.

_Krestic,_ began Tamaris. _You all felt what I felt. Will you listen to my warnings now?_

_ Well, _Krestic answered, _we know the Borg were running from something. We just got in the way, but are you sure it's the same aliens that have been threatening them all this time?_

_ You all felt it, _repeated Tamaris. _You tell me._

Lorrit could sense the shudder go through the group as they all recalled the moment just before the Borg attack. Helia, deep in her Villinari, had been the only one who had blocked it out. The abject hatred in the telepathic message had made their ears vibrate.

_So we are agreed, _put in Nellio, _that we need to push for more aggressive means to get out of this part of space?_

_ Yes,_ replied Krestic, _but I still refuse to reveal our telepathy to the Starfleets so that puts us in a difficult position. Who will pay attention to us? Captain Tuvok still will not take any risks._

_ Now that they've lost their tactical officer, _thought Preva, _who knows who they'll put in his place. You all know what the stubborn leaders are like: they would rather have people who do what they say than those who do a good job._

_ I doubt that Tuvok is like that, _scoffed Tamaris. _He and Torres butt heads all the time but he keeps her on._

_ That doesn't mean anything, _thought Ennica. _She's with the first officer, remember. _

_ Are you two still working on the modifications you suggested? _cut in Krestic to Tamaris.

_We are, _replied Tamaris, _but there's not much we can do with the hardware we have._

_ Oh, _piped up Lorrit. _I heard there's some Borg debris in cargo bay two. Much of it is still intact._

_ There are quite a few dead Borg drones in the morgue too, _added Blouxe.

_ Good, _thought Krestic. _Tamaris, see what you can do with the Borg parts. Preva and I have dinner with the Captain this evening. We'll see what we can do to influence him. Everyone else keep your ears fanned. We'll reconvene in a few days to see where we're at._

Everyone rose, placing their closed right fists on their left shoulder and most moved to clear up their plates except Helia and Lorrit. Lorrit stayed to finish his lunch but Helia stared down at her untouched meal.

_You were very quiet, _thought Lorrit as he wolfed down some refried beans. He was developing a taste for human food. _Are you alright?_

_ They were awfully insensitive about Harry, weren't they? _she replied.

_Well, things are pretty serious right now; more so than the Starfleets realize. I'm sure they'll mourn like the rest once we're out of danger._

_ I don't know, _thought Helia, sadly. _They barely knew him._

_ You're right, _answered Lorrit, squeezing Helia's hand. _Not like we did. _

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tom's footsteps down the empty corridor seemed to be tapping out Harry's name. It was late but Tom couldn't sleep even with B'Elanna breathing gently next to him. It had been a rough week since the Borg attack. Voyager was back up and running for the most part and on course again, but the mood on the ship was grim. The loss of their tactical officer weighed heavily on the crew, especially Tom, at whose hand Harry had died.

_No. It wasn't my fault_, the First Officer told himself. _It was the Borg. Never forget it was the Borg's fault._ No memorial service had yet been planned but no one seemed to be complaining. Once that happened, it became real and Harry was gone for good. Tom just needed to get one last look at Harry. Maybe if he saw him again with the Borg implants on his face, Tom could remind himself why he had to shoot his best friend and maybe get some sleep… at least tonight.

Sickbay was quiet when Tom got there. The last of the patients from the Borg encounter had been sent back to quarters yesterday and he assumed the Doctor had deactivated himself. The room was dark and empty except for a few bio beds and a lone stasis pod in the corner. He supposed he'd have to go through the morgue himself. Suddenly, Tom tensed up. He thought he'd heard the sound of a morgue drawer opening. _You're being stupid, _he told himself, but he couldn't help how fast his heart was pumping as he crept over to where the dead were kept. The door between the rooms slid open.

ARGH!

Tom was nearly blinded by the red light of a Borg eye in the dark. He jumped back into sickbay fumbling at the waistband of his pajamas for a phaser that wasn't there. Why had they been so stupid? They knew the Borgcould regenerate themselves. He knocked over trays of medical equipment as he stumbled to get away from the dark shadow with the red eye that was slowly advancing toward him. He stopped short when he hit the console and was backed up into the sickbay computer. The redeye bored down as it leaned over him. Tom squeezed his eyes shut thinking this was an appropriate fate after what he'd done to Harry.

"Mr. Paris? What's the matter with you?"

Tom opened his eyes. The lights were on and the shape had moved off.

"Doc?"

Standing before him, was the EMH with a red Borg eye on his right side.

"Yes, of course," replied the Doctor irritably. "Who else would it be?"

"Your eye…"

"My… Oh, yes," he replied, punching a few buttons. They eye disappeared. "I'd been wearing it for the last few days. I guess I forgot about it. B'Elanna wrote the subroutine for it. It's quite better than a microscope but works best in the dark."

"What's it for?  
>"Dissecting our drone friends in there," he replied gesturing towards the morgue. "What are you doing down here, Mr. Paris? Don't tell me you miss your duty shifts."<p>

"I wanted to see Harry one last time," said Tom sullenly. "Can you show me which drawer he's in?"

"Drawer? Mr. Kim isn't in there," corrected the Doctor.

"What? I thought he…"

"He was dead when you brought him in," assured the EMH, "but something to do with his implants allowed him to regenerate. I've got him in stasis for now until I can figure out how or if I can remove the Borg additions."

Tom slowly walked over to the stasis pod that he'd previously taken for empty. He stared down at his friend, very much alive, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. The Doctor came over and stood next to him.

"If you wouldn't have shot him, Mr. Kim would be a full drone by now," the EMH said quietly. "So you see, Mr. Paris, in the end you saved him."

"But will he ever be Harry again?"

"I'm not sure, but his brainwaves are still strong underneath the Borg interference, so I'm encouraged. I need to learn more about the assimilation process, however if I'm to stop it. That's why I've been elbow deep in drone organs for the last few days."

Tom nodded feeling better than he'd felt in long while.

"Why haven't you told anyone?" he asked.

"I still don't know if it's possible to undo what the Borg did. I thought it best not to get everyone's hopes up."

"If there's a way, Doc, you'll find it."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence Mr. Paris," replied the EMH. "If I'm going to find it, then I need to get back to my _patients._ You'll excuse me. I have work to do." The Doctor punched a few buttons on the console and the Borg eye reappeared on his face. Despite his abrupt dismissal, Tom couldn't help grinning like a fool as he walked out the sick bay door.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

It was late and Chakotay lay in bed worried sick. When Kathryn hadn't come home for lunch he'd gone to look for her and came up empty handed but it wasn't until she hadn't returned for dinner that he began to become truly apprehensive. He'd gone out to look for her then too. When he still didn't find her, he came home again and flopped down on the bed to decide what to do next. The days were long this time of year and there was maybe an hour left of daylight. Chakotay thought maybe she'd gone to the cabin. It was a fairly long walk through some hills when not using the river. They even had to stop and camp a few times when they were coming back from a boat trip. He hadn't tried there yet. Chakotay got up and began gathering what he would need for the hike: a wrist torch, something for her to eat, a tricorder in case he got lost. He was just contemplating on taking a med kit when he heard the front door open and Kathryn come in. He was out to her in an instant.

"Kathryn! What happened to you?" he said walking up to her and squeezing her close. "I was just getting ready to go look for you for the third time."

"I'm sorry," she said. There was that half smile again. "I shouldn't have stayed out so long. Time got away from me."

"Is everything alright?"

"Fine. I'm fine. I just needed a day to myself, for thinking."

"I can understand that," he answered, "but next time will you tell me what you're doing? I thought you'd hurt yourself, or fallen in the river."

"I'm sorry," she said again. He heard a little pain in her voice. "It was inconsiderate of me."

"It's alright," he answered, kissing her temple. "Is there anything you want to talk to me about?"

She stared up at him for a moment before she answered. "No. Can we go to bed? I feel exhausted."

"Of course," he said pulling her in a little tighter before he let go. They both got ready for bed silently and Chakotay didn't push her any further until they crawled underneath the covers. As soon as they were settled, he wrapped his arms around her again in a protective embrace. He'd half expected her to pull away with as distant as she was being but instead she snuggled even closer, burying her face in his chest.

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong?" he whispered gently in one last effort.

"Everything's fine," she said, tilting her lips up to his and giving him a heartfelt kiss before dropping off to sleep. Chakotay maintained his vice like grip on her, thankful she was home, but found he was still restless.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"King me," said Jenny triumphantly as she pushed her red piece to the last square on Lorrit's end of the board. They both hung over the game of checkers spread out on the coffee table in Lorrit's living area. She'd been trying to teach him the game for a while now and he was starting to get the hang of it but she still beat him soundly every time he played.

"How are things going with Vorik?" asked Lorrit as he crowned her piece.

"Ok, I guess," she replied. "He still makes plans with me and stopped telling me how illogical it was not to spend all our time practicing meditation."

"So he likes the other activities you do together?"

"He participates and doesn't complain."

"For a Vulcan, I'd say that's as close as you're going to get to him enjoying himself," replied Lorrit. "King me."

All of a sudden the door to Lorrit's quarters slid open and Helia rushed in sobbing. "I need to talk to you," she said amidst tears. "I don't think I can take it anymore. I just…" she stopped short when she saw Jenny.

"It's ok," said Lorrit. "Have a seat." Helia sat on the sofa next to Lorrit and Jenny shifted uncomfortably.

"I should go," she said.

"No stay," replied Helia. "Everyone might as well know what a fool I am." Jenny only looked at her confused. Helia went on. "You've heard of the Villinari?"

"Lorrit's told me about it."

"When I was a little girl, I got tired of people telling me how ugly I was all the time."

"Why would people call you ugly?" asked Jenny incredulously.

"You've seen the other Zahoran women," she replied. "No matter what I do, I can't gain weight. All the girls on my first ship, my mother… all of them made fun of me for it. I started invoking the Villinari with everyone when I got stationed on my last ship. I suppose I thought if I drove everybody away from the beginning, they'd never have a chance to start calling me ugly. Now it's hard to act any other way."

"You're not being that way now," pointed out Lorrit. "And you've learned to be kind to me."

"But I'm sure I've already made everyone hate me, especially… and now it's too late," she sobbed.

"Just start being nice to people," suggested Jenny, rubbing Helia's shoulder sympathetically. "It might take a while but as soon as they realize you're not going to bite their head off, they'll come around." Helia looked up at Jenny gratefully for a moment but then her face fell again.

"But it's still too late for the one I really cared about."

"Who's that?"

"Harry."

"You like Harry!" exclaimed Jenny, eyeing their friend across the table. "I thought you and Lorrit…"

Helia looked surprised. "I thought _you_ and Lorrit…"

"No," she answered. "I'm interested in Vorik. I thought everyone knew. I get enough grief for it. As far as Harry goes, when he comes out of stasis, the Doctor may be able to…"

"What?" yelled Helia. "He's not…"

"Dead?" said Jenny. "No. I'd thought that news had got around. Well, he was dead for a little bit but the Doctor brought him back. There wasn't any brain damage so he should be alright." Helia looked as if she was ready to cry all over again.

"Go to him," said Lorrit. "Show him about your Villinari. Everything will be fine. If I know Harry at all, he'll forgive you."

"Show him?" asked Helia. "But what about…"

"You don't have to see anything yourself," replied Lorrit. "It's alright to tell him what's on your mind." Helia nodded. Jenny looked confused but said nothing.

"I'll go, then," said Helia, getting up. "Maybe he'll wake up when I'm down in sick bay." With that, Helia hurried out the door.

"She seems a lot nicer than I thought," said Jenny, when Helia was gone.

"She has been troubled for a while," said Lorrit. "Members of our species aren't very kind to those who don't fit in. I think now that she's on Voyager, once she understands no one here minds that she's skinny, she'll find a place."

"Poor thing," replied Jenny. "Should I com her tomorrow? Maybe she'd like to get a coffee."

"I think she'd enjoy that," replied Lorrit smiling.


	7. Chapter 7

Helia wasn't entirely sure what to do about Tom. He was fast asleep in a chair next to Harry's bed, snoring loudly, with a thin trickle of drool running down his chin. She half smiled at the Doctor as he bustled up to check on Harry.

"Are you here to take over for him?" he asked nodding at the unconscious first officer. "He's in desperate need of a sonic shower. _I _don't have a sense of smell, but my colleagues have been complaining." The EMH walked over to Tom and nudged him with his foot. "Up, Mr. Paris. You've been relieved."

Tom spluttered awake looking around in a daze and clearly not recognizing where he was. His gaze first went to his unconscious friend, which brought everything back. Next he turned to Helia and he grinned in spite of himself. She only had eyes for Harry.

"It's going to be alright," he said to her. "The Doctor fixed everything. That's why he's out of stasis." Tom patted her gently on the shoulder and she managed another half smile for the first officer.

"He'll be alright?" she asked.

"He'll be fit as a fiddle," said the Doctor smugly. "He just needs his rest but I think it's a good idea he have a familiar face in sight when he wakes up. It'll help him reorient himself to his surroundings."

"I'll stay," said Helia, taking Tom's seat. Tom smiled again.

"I kept the chair warm for ya," he said, as he walked out of sick bay. "Com me if he wakes up."

Once Tom had left, Helia turned back to Harry taking his hand. The Doctor was still taking readings.

"How did you cure him?" asked Helia.

"It was quite simple really," replied the EMH, "once I discovered how the assimilation process works. The Borg inject their victims with thousands of microscopic machines called nanoprobes which immediately begin to transform the organism on a cellular level. One of the reasons the Borg are such efficient assimilators is that the nanoprobes rapidly alter the biochemistry of the individual to become dependent on their implants. I have removed everything that formed before the process was halted by Mr. Paris' phaser blast but Mr. Kim has quite a bit of withdrawal to go through still. I thought it best to keep him unconscious until he finishes the worst of it."

"And you don't mind if I stay here?"

"Of course not," said the Doctor gently. Harry's angst for the leggy Zahoran was known all over Voyager and the EMH hoped this was a sign she was finally coming around. "I think Harry would appreciate it too."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Chakotay was in his woodshop working on the boat. He was trying to make it more gondola like and add an arm for a light of some sort. The rains had slowed and the water had become low and calm. He thought he and Kathryn might be able to go on a night time sail. That would be romantic. Then maybe he could get out of her what was bothering her. Now that he was over his doubts, he supposed it was time for her to work out hers but he had not been nearly as upset as she seemed. He'd stayed quiet on the subject, figuring she'd let him know in her own good time but it had been a week and though she actually spoke to him almost normally again, she hadn't opened up. So now he was working on the boat. He'd have to get it out of her himself.

He was going over the conversation he wanted to have in his head, trying to come up with the exact choice of words that would get past her walls. He always could do it. It just took patience. He nearly had the dialogue down when Kathryn herself came into the workshop holding a padd.

"Chakotay, we need to talk."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

B'Elanna had been walking through the stacks of equipment in cargo bay two looking for Tom for what seemed like forever. The ship's computer had told her where he was but it was never specific enough. When she finally found him, though, she was sorry she did. Even though Tom and Tamaris were at the far end of the cargo hold she had been able to hear their yells out in the corridor.

"I don't care what anybody says. You weren't cleared by me or the Captain to take anything from here."

"I just needed one component to replace something I broke."

"Replace? You mean you've stole things from here before?"

"I've _used _parts, yes, but they were for the ship. B'Elanna and I were working on..."

"What exactly were you and _Lieutenant Torres_ working on and why do you need _Borg_ hardware for it?"

"She said..."

"_I _said any modifications he wanted to try, so long as they were safe would be fine," interrupted B'Elanna as she found the two in the maze of cargo. Tom was trying to wrestle a small box out of Tamaris's hand.

"And you're working with him on this?" asked Tom.

"Yes, of course," she replied. "You don't think I'd let him make any major modifications to the ship without my supervision, do you?" Tom relaxed but said nothing. B'Elanna eased the box of components out of his hands and handed them to the Zahoran who glowered down at the first officer. B'Elanna looked up at Tamaris. "Go finish what you're doing and com me when you're done. I want to have a look at it."Tamaris nodded and turned to go but Tom kept a suspicious eye on him as he walked out of the cargo bay.

"I told him he could use them," continued B'Elanna.

"I don't care," snapped Tom, not giving in. "I'm not exactly thrilled about him installing Borg circuits on Voyager. How do you know they won't just fly us straight to the nearest cube?"

She rolled her eyes. "They won't. I've tested them. We needed upgraded hardware. If you can tell me where to find some, I'll use it, but for now this is all I've got."

Tom considered her for a moment. "The answer is still no. Tuvok would say the same. Really, B'Elanna, I don't trust that guy. I think he's just doing this to spend time with you."

B'Elanna suspected Tom could be right on that point but she didn't say so.

"Look," she said finally. "Tamaris made it clear that we were going to need these upgrades eventually and I believe him."

"Made it clear? What do you mean?"

"I think the Zahorans know something we don't," she answered. "Haven't you noticed? They've all been on edge lately, especially since the Borg attack."

Tom had to admit he'd seen it himself but something about her supporting that arrogant limey haired...

"I can ask Tuvok and try to get engineering more rations. Then you can replicate what you need. I don't trust the Borg components and I don't trust your little helper's project either."

"It's my project you're delaying," spat B'Elanna and stormed off out of the cargo bay.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Harry seemed to float above everything, though he wasn't a physical entity. Of that he was sure. Here, where ever that was, he could see and hear and feel, though that wasn't quite right. Perceive, maybe, was a little closer. He was vaguely aware of other thoughts he'd had before this place. They'd been disconcerting. Many voices had echoed in unison; none of them belonging to him yet all of them his. Some words from that time still lingered. _8472… their perfection must be added… 8472… perfect… perfect… perfect…_ The old thoughts were fading quickly but Harry tried to hang on to a few of them. He somehow _perceived_ that they were important. These bits were all he had left to him in this new place. Perhaps that was why he struggled to keep them. Here there was nothing else. He had no desires to stay or leave and time was not a dimension to him. He simply existed.

Suddenly, things began to change. He seemed to be hovering over an engine room of a Zahoran ship. A group of small Zahoran children stood in the corner whispering to each other and pointing at a scrawny little girl sitting by herself a meter away.

_Look at her bony knees. She's already so tall and skinny. She's gonna look like a male when she grows up._

Harry saw a plump adult female Zahoran turn to the children, scowling. _Quiet, you lot! And Helia, get with the group and pay attention or else you be stuck in your familiarization time until you have twelve secras!_ The little girl nodded and moved to where the other children were but still wasn't part of the circle. The other children continued to giggle.

The scene changed and the little girl Helia sat at a table in quarters. A different Zahoran woman loomed over her, yelling a stream of seemingly endless scolding as Helia leaned over the mountain of her uneaten dinner.

_I don't know what you think you're doing fasting like this. I know your father's death upset you but this silent protest isn't going to bring him back. The dead are dead. There's nothing to be done about it and you insistence on mourning him is so very unZahoran… You'd better start eating and fatten up young lady or else the males will never want you and Illitara forbid you slip into Grath…_

The scene changed again. A tall slender Helia sat at the far end of a table in a Zahoran club with a bright green drink in front of her, but she hadn't touched it. The plump young women, who Harry understood to be her friends, ignored her while they chatted with a group of young Zahoran men. Helia watched as one of her friends eyed her and then whispered to one of the men. He glanced at Helia, his ears twitching indignantly. He gave the girl he'd been talking to another reluctant look and got up to make his way to Helia. Before he could get to her however Helia turned to him and snapped, _you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to._ The young man looked relieved and returned to where he was.

_That was rude,_ whispered the friend. _You ought to mind your Villinari a little more._

Helia shrugged. _But I don't want any of them near me, _she answered.

The scene faded again. Helia was now on the bridge of a Zahoran freighter, pulling the top panel off an opps console but it wouldn't budge. She picked up a tool to pry the part loose which worked but snapped the tool in half. Tamaris walked up to her smiling.

_Having some trouble there?_ he asked with a grin. _I'm Tamaris. Can I help you out?_

_ You're the new engineer? _she replied waspishly. He nodded in affirmation taking a step back. _Then you can go back down there and get me one of these. _She shoved the broken pieces into his hands.

The scene changed yet again and Helia was glimmering onto Voyager's transporter pad. As Harry hovered over this new image he could see himself standing next to Neelix watching Lorrit struggle with Helia's luggage but this time he noticed Helia watching his past self and he could feel her emotions as she did so. Even in is non-state, Harry perceived affection, attraction, and then extreme anxiety. So this is what she'd thought the first time she saw him. Those emotions didn't last long, however. Quickly he could sense Helia mustering annoyance which billowed up like emerging storm clouds and by the time her silver case had hit the floor, all the beautiful innocent feelings had been drowned and hidden by irritation.

Then he heard Helia's voice. It was all around him and in his own head.

_Ang ki, Harry. To me._

Harry felt like he was being stabbed with tiny knives from head to toe as his thoughts dropped unceremoniously back into his body. It was black where he was now and it took him a moment to fish through his painfully conscious mind to remember how to open his eyes. When he did, the room was too bright to see. He blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted and when they did, he found himself staring up into a sea of sparkling emerald green lined with thick shiny jade lashes.

"How do you feel?" asked Helia.

"Mmmrgh," groaned Harry, as he struggled to find words. "Bad headache."

"I'm not surprised," she laughed gently brushing his hair off his forehead. "The Doctor said your brainwaves were stuck in what he was calling a Borg loop. After we severed your connection to the collective, your mind was having trouble finding its way back. In the end, I had to go in and get you, but please," she added quickly. "Don't tell anyone I'm telepathic. Krestic wants to keep it a secret."

"You're a telepath? I doubt anyone on board cares."

"I know, but we've had so few good experiences in regards to our abilities on this journey, our Tribunus has become a little paranoid."

"I won't say anything," said Harry closing his eyes. After a moment they popped open again. "So that was you… the images I saw before I woke up…"

"Yes," she admitted. "I wanted… needed to show you a few things while I had your attention."

"There was this _feeling_ I had, when you were there, I can't describe it."

"I allowed you the use of my rilniri. It's a sense Zahorans possess but humans do not. Understanding might be a close translation, but there's really no word for it in your language.

Harry thought back to all he saw. None of it could be summed up in words but the entire history was fresh in his mind.

"So that's why…" he began.

"Yes."

"And you…"

"I care for you a great deal," she replied softly, taking his hand and squeezing it. He returned the pressure and looked back up at her. Perhaps some of her rilniri still lingered. Perhaps Harry just knew, but from that moment on he understood he would be spending the rest of his moments with her.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tuvok knelt at the table in his living quarters and lit his meditation lamp. It had been a while since he had done so. He had been busy. The crew had demanded most of his time. He had many meetings with Krestic and Preva, who liked to be a part of decision making for the ship. He could not blame them for wishing to be useful so he often met with them to listen to their counsel on this part of space or that planet. That must be what had taken up his time usually devoted to meditation, or so he told himself.

He hesitated before he lit the candle then inwardly scolded himself for being so illogical. As the flame burst into existence, Tuvok relaxed, letting all the thoughts of the day slowly drift from his conscious mind. He needed this meditation. Over the last few months he'd found it gradually harder to keep his emotions buried as deep as he liked. Though no one other than himself might notice, he could feel them churning below.

As his mind cleared, he heard it again; the sound like static in the air when a monitor is still on but not receiving a signal. It was a dull hum he could feel more than hear and it made him uneasy. Tuvok tried to clear that from his thoughts too, but it would not go. He would not find the release he needed today. He moved to extinguish the lamp but something made him pause. In the very back of his mind, he thought he heard the faintest voice, high pitched like a child's though he could not understand what it said. Tuvok closed his eyes again, this time attempting to focus on the sound rather than purge it.

_Ang ki. Ang ki._

He did not understand the words and the voice was one he hadn't heard before, and yet it felt familiar. He knew it almost as well as his own. He chose to follow it.

_Ang ki. To ki. To me. To me._

The words were clear and loud now but the Vulcan could see nothing. He dared not open his eyes lest he lose what he'd found. He was overwhelmed with a sense of urgency though he wasn't sure if it was his own or from the voice.

_Do you understand me now? _asked the small voice.

_Yes, _he answered. _Is it you, who has been interrupting my meditation?_

_ A part of me is always with you. I am part of you. If it interrupts your meditation, that is your own fault._

Tuvok was momentarily taken aback by the impertinence of the response but chose to ignore it for the present. _Who are…_

_ You must listen! _interrupted the voice petulantly. _You must, you must, you must…_The voice was in the beginnings of a tantrum. Without thinking, the Vulcan asserted some of his own mental control and the whining stopped immediately. He assumed he was dealing with an under developed consciousness and decided to humor the voice.

_I shall listen. What must I hear?_

_ Only that which all of us hear. I will open the door._ Suddenly a new voice entered his mind. Tuvok clapped his hands to his ears as the rush of evil entered his head.

_The Borg shall perish. The Borg…_ and then it was gone and the small voice was back. _I'm sorry I hurt you, but you had to know, because I'm afraid for you._ That voice was gone too.

When Tuvok finally opened his eyes he found himself huddled on his floor, his face dripping with a cold sweat. He moved back onto the sofa, slowly letting his thoughts slide back into a state of composure. Staring at the small flame that still burned, he tried to shove the experience into some sort of logical order but none of it fit. There were too many questions.

The Zahorans were telepaths; he was certain of that now; and the child's voice was Whed's. That was something he felt in his bones. But the other… It had been so full of malice and hatred that Tuvok had almost been unable to bear it. He did not think it possible that their alien passengers would be able to carry that with them and show no outward sign. Was there really a threat? If so, it seemed to be only towards the Borg. Were the Zahoran's trying to manipulate him somehow? He thought it best to leave the matter for now. Perhaps he would have the Doctor conduct a brain scan in the morning. It would not do for him to act on something if it were only a result of him being unwell.

Tuvok attempted again to clear his mind as he got into bed. The humming was gone. He would be able to sleep.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"Chakotay, we need to talk."

_Finally_. Internally he breathed a sigh of relief. He would get to the bottom of things but the look on his wife's face made him apprehensive.

"Sit down," she said, seating herself at the small table in the room.

"What is it, Kathryn?" he asked, pulling a chair up next to her rather than across.

"I think I'm going to start up my research again," she said calmly and deliberately. Chakotay thought about this for a minute.

"You want to leave New Earth," he said slowly.

"I think we should consider it."

She said _we. _That was good. At least she wasn't talking about leaving him.

"Voyager is probably long out of reach." He was thinking of the combadges.

"I know," she replied. "I checked. We still have the shuttle, though. We might be able to get somewhere inhabited."

"Are you getting bored here with me, Kathryn?" said Chakotay quietly. Her face crumpled and she squeezed his hand tightly.

"Nothing like that," she said quickly. "I'm sorry if I made you think that. It's just..."

She paused. Chakotay held her hand in both his and chaffed it encouragingly.

"Tell me what's wrong, please?"

"It's just that we're going to have a baby."

"A baby!" Chakotay couldn't help grinning. He'd always wanted children and it had been a difficult decision not to have any. When they got married, they'd realized that they would likely never get off the planet. That was fine for them. They were adults and had already experienced much of life and they had each other. For a child to grow up with only his two aging parents to care for and no friends, no chance at falling in love one day, that didn't seem right. But now that nature had thwarted all their precautions and the decision was made for them, Chakotay couldn't help but be thrilled. "What happened? Did you miss a shot? I thought I had taken all mine."

"It was the tattoo ink," she said laying down the padd, "and the coffee." He picked up the padd and read.

"But we checked it for side effects."

"We checked it for toxins and we didn't figure in caffeine. A chemical in the flower had the potential to disrupt our injections which wouldn't have even been that much of a risk if the caffeine wouldn't have sped up absorption. We didn't take another injection for a whole two weeks. I wasn't sure about all of it until this morning."

"But my shot should have still worked," said Chakotay, confused. Kathryn took his left hand and slowly turned his arm over.

"That's what I thought too, until I remembered."

Chakotay looked down and saw the little lines he'd drawn on his own arm so the ink wouldn't clog the needle. It was true. They were going to have a child. He knew Kathryn was worried and he shared her fears for the baby's future but right now he couldn't feel anything but happy.

"It'll be alright," he said smiling at her. "We'll put aside all our projects and I'll help you with the research this time. We've got a few years before our isolation becomes a problem."

"Thank you," she said.

"Can we just be happy now?" he laughed. "This is a happy moment, after all."

"Yes," Kathryn nodded as her full smile appeared for the first time in a week. Still she had trouble shaking the gnawing apprehension that lay underneath.


	8. Chapter 8

May 2375

Harry and Helia had chosen to get married in Neelix's beach resort program. The Zahoran silks were raised in the main lounge area. There were six silks total, all a different shade of green representing the six facets of the Zahoran mind: Gyran-memory, Guttig-sadness, Ginara-wisdom, Golar-love, Gentu-mirth, and Grath-the darker aspects. Each silk was arranged as the vertical partitions of a gazebo under which Harry and Helia had stood in front of Tuvok to be married. Every partition was given equal space as a reminder that the facets must remain in balance.

Having done their duty to their guests, the newlyweds now stood in the gazebo, with the silks pulled shut, to get away from the sun and the crowd. Though the music now was a more upbeat number, Harry had his arms tight around Helia's waist as they swayed slowly to their own rhythm. He quietly dropped kisses on her lips, cheek, and neck.

"I love you, you know," she whispered in his ear.

"And I love you," he replied.

"How did we ever make it here?"

"I don't know," laughed Harry, but I'm glad you came to see me in sickbay that day. When I woke up, I knew."

Helia's eyes twinkled at him as she smiled. He'd told her all of this before, of course, but she doubted she'd ever tire of hearing it.

"Our friends were certainly surprised," she said.

"Does it matter what they think?"

"No," she said, "but it made it that much more fun telling them."

"Speaking of our friends," said Harry, who had promised himself he wouldn't ask but his curiosity was an itch he had to scratch. "What's up with Jenny and Vorik?"

Helia laughed. She knew Harry had been dying to find out about them since he saw them walk in together.

"As far as I know they're just friends," she said.

"I guess everybody felt they needed a date for this," conceded Harry. "There are a lot of odd-couples out there."

"We were the event of the year," joked Helia, "but I'm not surprised they came together."

"She's been after him forever."

"They've been spending quite a bit of time together lately. On Tuesdays he instructs her in Vulcan meditation and on Thursdays they do crafts."

"Crafts?" exclaimed Harry. "Neither of them seem the type."

"Jenny likes them because it's a way of remembering her grandmother and Vorik... well once he realized that Jenny was learning meditation techniques to further their friendship as much as anything else, he felt it only logical that he participate in one of her activities."

"Wow," said Harry. "He must really like her then."

"I think so," replied Helia, "though sometimes I wonder if either of them realize that yet."

Suddenly the music changed and a waltz came on. Helia grinned broadly at Harry. Her new husband, due to his superb musical abilities, was an excellent dancer and being whirled around a dance floor had quickly become one of her favorite human activities.

"Can we go dance?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied. As long as Helia was in his arms, he was up for anything. They left the gazebo to join their friends on the deck.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Meanwhile on the dancing deck, Jenny was trying to show Vorik the steps.

"It's a very logical process," she explained. "1 2 3, 1 2 3. You should like it." He was a bit clumsy at first, but the regularity of the rhythm soon appealed to him and Jenny thought she saw a look of satisfaction in his face after the first time he made it around the deck without a mistake. He was a little stiff but she figured she had the rest of the night to work on that.

"That was very agreeable," commented Vorik after the dance, as he poured her a glass of punch.

"There's another waltz coming up soon," she suggested. "Helia loves them."

"I would prefer to sit out the next few songs," he replied.

"Oh."

They were quiet for a few moments as they sipped their drinks. Jenny thought he had a strange expression on his face.

"Will you walk with me?" he asked suddenly, nodding toward the beach. "There is a rock formation a little further down that I am curious about."

"Alright."

The two walked down the beach in silence. Jenny felt uncomfortable for some reason. She'd learned when you are friends with a Vulcan you often spend time in silence but this seemed different. The more she got to know Vorik, the more she noticed subtleties in his manor that most would never see. When he quirked his right eyebrow and nodded slightly it meant he was pleased. When he was not, there was a nearly invisible line in his forehead that would deepen. The vibe she got from him now she couldn't place. When they got to the formation, Vorik walked around it with his hands behind his back, examining it in great detail.

"Hmm," he said finally. "I had thought it to be made of a rock native to Vulcan, but it is not."

"Oh."

After another long pause, Vorik began again. "I believe my apologies are necessary."

"Really? Why?"

"I did not only come here to observe the rocks."

"That's ok," said Jenny relieved. At least he wanted to tell her what was on his mind. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I wished to tell you that I have come to greatly value the time we spend together," he said. "I have found a measure of peace that I have found with no one else. Our friendship will always be important to me."

_Oh no, _she thought._ I'm getting the 'just friends' speech. This is my pay back for all the guys that have heard it from me._ She took a deep breath as they stood in silence for a while. Vorik began again.

"You know I do not intend to choose a mate for at least five more years." Jenny nodded. "But what I intend is not always the most logical course of action. I have noticed that humans are often impatient and fickle with their emotions so I think it best I speak now before your attentions turn elsewhere."

"Wait, what?"

"You are obviously the most logical choice for my mate. I am hoping you will agree."

Jenny's mouth opened and closed. She knew Vulcan's were to the point but somehow this wasn't how she imagined this moment would go.

"Ah," said Vorik with wrinkled brow. I see you are not as amenable to my suggestion as I thought." He turned to leave.

"No wait," said Jenny, grabbing his arm to stop him. "I... it's just that..." She wanted to tell him she loved him, but how would he respond to that? She wasn't sure she could explain the problem. Vorik searched her pain stricken face.

"I see," he said finally. "You understand that Vulcan words can never express the passion that human words attempt. That is something that I cannot give you but may I show you something else?" She nodded slowly. He then placed both hands under her chin and closed his eyes. Jenny gasped as she suddenly felt the sea of violent Vulcan emotion churning underneath the thick layer of reserve. Closing her own eyes she searched with her mind and suddenly she found what it was she had been looking for. Somewhere in there below everything, he loved her. As he slowly removed his hands she looked deep into his eyes. Behind that stoic expression she thought she caught a quick glimpse of tenderness.

"Yes, Vorik," she said, "I will be your mate." The two were still standing there quietly when the red alert went off. Vorik touched her gently on the shoulder before they both turned and hurried to their stations.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Harry was cursing as he stepped off the turbolift onto the bridge. It seemed like all the important moments of his life were getting constantly interrupted by the Delta Quadrant. He thought of the last moment with Helia. She'd shrugged and smiled when the red alert went off interrupting their dance. "We're spacefarers," she'd said. "This is our way of life." Harry had kissed her deeply before he went off to take his station. All he knew was that if he had to spend his honeymoon in a stasis pod there would be some hell to pay when he woke up.

"Arm aft phaser banks." barked Tuvok as Harry relieved the crewman at tactical. Voyager took a glancing shot as Ayala deftly steered the ship to avoid the pursuer. "Fire at will."

"Ship targeted," said Harry and nailed the enemy with a phaser fire to no affect.

"It's only one small ship," said Tom to Tuvok. "Why not whip around and hit it with a phase cannon." Voyager shuttered again. Tuvok paused only for a millisecond then nodded.

"Mr. Ayala, attack pattern alpha, full power to forward shields. Arm phase cannons. Mr. Kim, target their weapons systems." Harry punched in the necessary coordinates while Ayala executed a swift course change and brought Voyager face to face with the attacking vessel.

"Target locked," said Harry.

"Fire!"

"Direct hit!"

"No effect to alien vessel," yelled Lorrit. Ayala veered the ship quickly to avoid a collision as the other ship turned around to pursue. It fired and sent Voyager careening off course. "Damage to the starboard nacelle. Shields down to ahhrg!" Suddenly Lorrit's face was screwed up with pain and he clutched his ears as he bent double over his console. "They're aware of us! The message changed. Run. _RUN_! We can't win."

Without waiting for orders, Harry quickly rerouted all backup power to aft shields. "M class planet dead ahead," he yelled, only after regretting the used of the word 'dead.'

"Lay in a course, Mr. Ayala, best speed," said Tuvok. Voyager shot off on the heading for the planet still taking fire. The lights flickered to pitch black and back up as the ship jerked.

"Captain," came B'Elanna's voice over the com. "I don't know how much longer I can hold a stable warp field."

"Can you hold it for five more minutes?"

"I don't think so."

"Do it anyway," answered Tuvok, only slightly losing his cool.

"Almost to the planet, Captain," said Harry. The ship was rocked hard this time and they were nearly thrown off course. The helm controls exploded and Ayala took a spray of sparks in the face and fell to the floor. Tom quickly jumped to his station. "Switching to manual guidance."

"Drop out of warp!" said Tuvok, just in time for Tom to line up to take the atmosphere of the planet. "All available power to forward shields."

"Alien vessel still pursuing!" said Harry.

"Here we go," muttered Tom as they crashed into the stratosphere. He pulled Voyager's nose up hard as the ground on the viewer came rushing up towards them.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"Starboard nacelle fried. Inertial dampeners not functioning. Life support minimal. Deflector grid completely destroyed. Transporters off line." The Zahorans and senior staff alike groaned as the list of needed repairs B'Elanna read off grew longer and longer. The beauty of the view from the grassy hill they all sat on for the briefing was lost to most of them. All any of the crew could focus on was the wreck that Voyager now was and the ugly trench it had ripped in the earth when it hit the planet. Krestic, Preva, Tamaris, Lorrit, Neelix, Tom, B'Elanna, Harry, and even Tuvok seemed more sullen at every downed system listed.

"Is anything working?" asked Harry.

"Well," replied B'Elanna, "we've got replicators, although good luck getting what you asked for and the hull is still in pretty good shape. The forward shields took most of the impact when we crashed but those are gone now too. I'd say we've got a couple of months' worth of repairs, at least."

"Neelix," said Tuvok, turning to the Talaxian, "where do our food supplies stand?"

"We've got plenty of Starfleet rations to last us for quite a while, Captain," began Neelix to muffled groans. Even the Zahorans had learned to hate rations. "But Ennica is encouraged about aeroponics. She thinks she can save most of what we've grown and there may be quite a lot of eatable vegetation on the planet. The mess hall, though, is, well, a mess. We might have to do some camp cooking for a while."

"A minor inconvenience," answered Tuvok, "so long as we are not going hungry. Do we have any information on the alien vessel?" he asked turning to Tom.

"It looks like it crashed about 50 kilometers to the southwest of us," replied the first officer. "Initial scans seem to indicate that something in this atmosphere interferes with their propulsion systems. Vorik took an away team to investigate the wreckage."

"The atmospheric conditions could be to our advantage," replied Tuvok with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Do we have many injured?"

"The Doctor, Nellio and Blouxe are making the rounds right now," answered Harry. "Besides Ayala, I haven't had any reports of anything serious, and he should be up and around in a day or two. I think we were lucky the ship went down so quickly. Since the hull only took a few shots it was able to absorb the impact that much better."

"Still," said Tuvok, "I do not think the fact that a ship can disable Voyager in only a few shots bodes well. We need to take the next few months to learn as much of our enemies as possible."

"I have some information about our enemies," said Tamaris darkly. Krestic shot him a look. "No, Tribunus," he replied. "It's time."

"Very well," Krestic sighed. All at once, Tuvok saw Krestic's walls fall and the Zahoran looked wearier than any humanoid he had ever seen in his life. "I'm sure by now, Captain, many of your crew have deduced that Zahorans are telepathic? Mr. Kim certainly should have."

"That is correct," said Tuvok. Tom, B'Elanna, and Neelix were surprised but said nothing.

"I hope you will not think ill of us for our abilities," added Preva.

"I am telepathic as well," replied Tuvok. "It is what we do with our capabilities that matters. What concerns me is that you went to great lengths to conceal them."

"Yes, yes," continued the Tribunus, "it all comes down to deeds. That has been the argument of many species both telepathic and empathic all over the quadrant but that doesn't matter to the Devore. To them it's all about what we _could_ do. They lock us up and torture us all because of what we are."

"We lost half our crew to the Devore," said Preva. "There was nothing we could do. Those who got back to the ship got back. Those who didn't… After that we didn't have enough of a crew to properly maintain the ship and that is why we crashed. Then, on the planet, we lost so many to Grath. It is a mental addiction to the darker facet or our psyche but it is attractive to those who are already disheartened. So you see, our abilities are more of a curse to us than anything else and because of the Devore, we've forgotten how to trust long ago."

"I see," replied Tuvok. Everyone was quiet for a time until the Captain spoke again. "I presume your mental abilities have given you insight into our enemy." Though Tuvok had some idea what they were referring to.

"The message has changed," said Tamaris. "Now the weak shall parish, not just the Borg. The Borg are all but finished." All the Zahorans collectively shuddered.

"The Borg are finished?" asked Tom. "That's good news, isn't it?"

"No," replied Krestic shaking his head. "They came here to finish the Borg but having nearly done so, they've taken a look around. Apparently humanoids disgust them and they mean to destroy everything."

"They didn't spontaneously come here to destroy the Borg," said Harry. Everyone turned to him in surprise. "The Borg went after them first."

"How do you know this?" asked B'Elanna.

"When I was in stasis," he answered, "even though I was separated from the collective, I still had residual messages from the interlink. Species 8472 is from an entirely different universe. The Borg went after them because they saw them as perfect but they couldn't assimilate them and 8472 retaliated."

"So what do we do?" asked Tom. "Obviously we can't beat them with the weapons we have."

Tamaris and B'Elanna exchanged looks.

"You're right," said the Zahoran engineer. "The ship needs and upgrade. Last I checked we have a whole cargo bay of Borg hardware still intact." B'Elanna eyed Tom sidelong. His facial expression was deteriorating into a scowl.

"How will Borg hardware aid the ship?" asked Tuvok skeptically.

"It has to do with something B'Elanna showed me on my first day," answered Tamaris. "The bio-neural gel packs. They're designed to use neural energy to quickly transmit data around the ship. They work well but the thing is, as I understand it, this is still new technology. Much of the ship still transfers data in digital form. Every time a bit of data hits a gel pack it has to be converted from digital to neurological. At each conversion there is a delay and a risk that there will be error. While the amount of delay is almost imperceptible to a humanoid, it's still there, and when you think of how many gel packs the ship has… the time adds up."

"And you believe you can improve upon this?" asked Tuvok.

"What Tamaris is suggesting," said B'Elanna, "is, that since the Borg are made up of both organic and electronic material, their relay circuits are _designed_ to transfer both types of energy without having to convert. There would be no delays and no replication errors. All those little glitches that we are constantly having to reboot to fix wouldn't happen anymore."

"Plus the ship would react a lot faster," added Tamaris. "A command would complete before you lifted your finger off the console."

Tuvok raised a thoughtful eyebrow.

"Very well," he replied. "Go ahead with the upgrades but I expect a full report of what these kind of modifications might entail as soon as possible." B'Elanna and Tamaris exchanged triumphant looks. It was a win, but she knew Tom didn't like it. It would mean her working long hours with the Zahoran at her side but it was what the ship needed. Tom had to see that.

"Though that may help us," Tuvok went on, "we will still need a means of defense that is able to stand up to the new enemy."

"I think the answer is with Borg technology there as well," said Tamaris.

"I wouldn't be so sure," scoffed Tom. "In case you haven't noticed, the Borg haven't been doing all that great."

"I think the solution is there," reiterated Tamaris. "The Borg just haven't found it yet. We just need to, ya know, think outside the cube."

"Do what you must," said Tuvok. "We will revisit the matter of defense when we have had time to better assess our resources. Do not limit yourself, however, to Borg technology. We may find what we need in the 8472 debris field. Dismissed."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"I am seeing no evidence of telepathic mind control," said the Doctor to Tuvok as he examined his brain scan. He looked closely at a portion where he thought he may have seen something odd but now he couldn't find what he'd been looking for. Perhaps it was nothing. He'd have Tuvok back in for a follow up to be sure. The Doctor went on, "Now that the Zahorans have _outed_ themselves, so to speak, I'll want to get a good look at their brain wave patterns. The brief lack of emotional control you've been experiencing may simply be a feedback of sorts from their own telepathy."

Tuvok nodded. He had chosen not to inform the Doctor of Whed's intrusion, just yet. There was something strange about it that he had not pinpointed and would not be able to come up with useful questions until he knew more. The Captain was preparing to leave when the sick bay doors slid open. Barely fitting through came Tom, Harry, Vorik, and several other engineers lugging a hunk of the enemy ship. The group made their way to a bio-bed and deposited the piece there with an abrupt CLUNK.

"Be careful," scolded the Doctor. "That bio-bed is one of the few things still functioning."

"Sorry Doc," said Tom. "Transporters are off line."

"What is it?" asked the EMH.

"It is a portion of the enemy vessel," answered Vorik.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" exclaimed the Doctor indignantly. "I'm a doctor, not a shipwright! Take that to engineering. I'll need that bed."

"Engineering can't do anything with it," said Harry. "It's not mechanical. It's organic. Our weapons can't do anything to it either." Harry pulled his phaser, turned it to the highest setting and fired on the piece of hull. There was not a mark left.

"A _bio_-ship?" said the EMH, suddenly interested.

"Yep," replied Tom. "We need you to see if you can find a way to kill it. Think of it as fighting a super-macro-virus."

"I will certainly try my best," answered the Doctor, slowly walking up to the piece of ship to take a closer look.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

September 2375

Even though New Earth New Year's day was supposed to be at the tail end of winter for the beginning of year four, spring had been impatient and showed itself a few weeks early. Kathryn was restless and wasted no time getting into her garden. Over the years she'd gotten spoiled on fresh tomatoes and was anxious to get them growing again this year. She'd generated a weather forecast four times already, and as unreliable as Federation issue weather programs were, she felt fairly confident about this one.

As enthusiastic as she was, the planting was going slowly. Kathryn only had a week to go before the baby was due and her belly was enormous, but she figured if she lay on a thick blanket on her side and took things at her own pace she'd be fine. Still, she had waited until Chakotay was immersed in the annual wall reinforcements before sneaking out to her little plot of soil. Once outside, she saw she had quite a bit to do. Weeds had already begun to sprout here and there and they each had to be pulled a certain way so that no roots were left behind. If they tore off, she'd have deep weeds all season. After unsuccessfully pulling the first two and having to trowel a foot deep hole to correct her mistakes, however, she soon realized she could not do the work lying down.

Awkwardly she sat up and slowly got into a kneeling position, doubling the blanket under her knees to block the moisture seeping up from the soft dirt. She laughed to herself at what a bad idea this was turning out to be; already her feet were falling asleep. She shifted her weight off to the side and mentally thanked Chakotay for insisting she wear her combadge everywhere for the last month. She may get in trouble but at least she wouldn't be stuck out here.

Leaning on her elbow to reach the weeds and stay clear of her massive belly she pulled at the stubborn root. A shooting pain went through the side of her back and she abruptly let the plant go. She straightened herself up slowly and sat with her eyes closed, letting her sore muscle ease back where it belonged. Then suddenly she had another pain. This one was different and then she felt the gush of water beneath her. It was time and she'd have to call Chakotay. There was no way she was getting up on her own now. She tapped her com.

"Chakotay, would you come to the garden please." She somehow managed a calm tone.

"What are you doing out in the garden? You should be..."

"Chakotay. The garden." Some of the command had crept back into her voice. This was by no means the worst crisis she'd been in, but she was in no mood for his scolding.

Chakotay was out the front door in an instant. He hoped she hadn't hurt herself in her bull headed determination to keep working. He saw her there, sitting next to her tomato plot, hunched over, leaning on an arm. When she turned around he stopped short, mouth still open for the reprimand he'd been ready to issue, but on her face was the most frightening Janeway death stare he'd seen in his life. The idea that it would have avoided quite a bit of conflict with the Kazon and other races had Kathryn been pregnant on Voyager flitted briefly through his mind, as he knelt down next to her. She didn't give him time to ask any questions.

"Anesthetic. Bed. Now."

With a nod that clearly said _aye Captain_, Chakotay picked up his tiny wife and swiftly brought her into the house.


	9. Chapter 9

Lorrit stood on the hill where the first briefing had taken place looking up at the stars. The tricorder he'd brought with him to confirm his suspicions beeped quietly (Lorrit thought forlornly) in his hand by his side. He flexed his ears as he stared.

"Lorrit!"

He turned to see Harry walking up the hill towards him.

"It's getting late," said Harry. "You probably ought to get inside before whatever's in the woods wakes up."

Lorrit nodded and made a move to follow Harry back down the hill.

"What's the matter?" asked Harry apprehensively. He was quickly becoming an expert at reading Zahoran hear twitches, and Lorrit's did not look happy.

"They're swarming," replied Lorrit quietly. "I came out here to double check. They know were here and they don't like that we got away."

"8472?"

Lorrit nodded.

"We'll fight that battle when we come to it, I guess," said Harry though he had no idea how. He hoped the Doctor was making some progress with the bio-ship hull.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

A long twelve hours later, Kathryn was finally fully dilated. Chakotay was at the foot of their bed encouraging her to push and Kathryn was keeping up a steady stream of swear words at his stinginess with the hypospray.

"How 'bout some more pain killers," she groaned with her latest effort.

"How about you've had as much as I can give you. C'mon. One more push."

"How 'bout I make it an order," she ground out. "I still outrank you," Kathryn panted as she fell back on the pillow.

"Chief medical officer out ranks a captain in this situation," answered Chakotay.

"Who promoted _you_?" she shot back at him.

"Don't give up yet. You're too stubborn to quit now."

Kathryn gave him a dirty look but leaned in again for another push, more determined than ever. This push, however meant business. Chakotay saw the head beginning to crown. Kathryn let out a yell. Even pumped with as many ccs of painkillers as she was she most definitely felt the size of this baby.

"Give me another one." Chakotay couldn't help but grin excitedly. "You're almost there." He held out his hand for her to grab with the other below to catch the baby's head. He gritted his teeth to keep his dimples as she crunched his fingers like a vice.

"I'm ordering you..."GRUNT "to wipe that damn smile off your face..." GRRRR "Are you proud you did this to me, commander! You bastard!"

"Kathryn, I need my hand."

"I'll hold on to it as long as I damn well please..."

"I have to pull him out!"

"Fine!" She released his fingers and screamed in her last major effort. After that push the baby filled his little lungs and gave a fat yell to rival his mother's. Chakotay grabbed him under his arms and pulled him free. Holding him to one side, he gave Kathryn his hand again for the final push to finish the job and they were done.

The new little one bawled heartily as Chakotay cut the cord and washed him. Soon he was in Kathryn's arms while Chakotay tended to her needs. Once the bed was clean and she'd been treated with the dermal regenerator, he lay down next to his wife and child, both of which were now calm and resting peacefully. Kathryn looked up at her husband and had to admit he looked nearly as exhausted as she felt. But not quite.

"I'm sorry I..." she began.

He shook his head.

"I understand," Chakotay replied. "From my point of view, I could tell what your motivation was." He kissed her on the temple.

She gave him a tired smile and looked down at the baby who was now heartily enjoying his first meal. He was a big boy. Over nine pounds. Kathryn had no doubt he was going to be built like his father. Though his locks were thin now, she could also tell he had dark, almost black hair and his skin, albeit with a soft baby pink about it, was going to be dark too.

"What do you want to call him?" she asked. Nothing they'd talked about before seemed right anymore.

"I'm not sure," Chakotay replied. "Something strong. He felt strong when he came out."

"He's going to look like you. I can tell already. Why don't we name him after you."

"Chakotay Jr.?"

"No, your given name; Amal Kotay."

"Yes," he said. "We'll call him Amal."

"And Chakotay?"

"Mmm?"

"Is it too soon for a cup of coffee?"

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Lorrit was trying to be as delicate as possible as he placed the Borg circuit into the relay. After nearly four months of working with them, he was the quickest with the soldering iron on five decks but he still had to be extra careful with the relay circuits. This particular board was more difficult since he was sitting inside the console itself. The panels in the corridors were fairly large and the one he was working in should be big enough for a large human but he'd grown quite a bit in the last year and was reaching full Zahoran height. He could feel his arm cramping as he slowly moved the component into place and gently touched the solder to the connections. _Carefully... carefully... carefully..._

"Lorrit?"

ZAP! *Clunk* _Ow!_

"Yes Ennica," said Lorrit, emerging from the console and rubbing his head. The Zahoran woman seemed nearly in tears.

"I talked to Neelix today," she said quickly. Lorrit groaned to himself. He counseled her not to just yet, but Ennica had always been headstrong.

"How did it go," he asked sucking on the finger where the component had shocked him.

"Well, not so good," she said sadly. "He's still hung up on that Ocompan. I don't know what his problem is. She'd be dead by now anyway."

"You didn't say that to him, did you?"

"No, of course not. I only suggested that we have dinner. I guess he picked up that I meant more than a friendly dinner and he started spluttering about her."

"Maybe that was the mistake," suggested Lorrit. "In some species men like to be the ones to do the chasing."

"Are Talaxians that way? I hadn't heard. Oh, but Lorrit," she whined as she rang her hands. "He won't even talk to me now. What do I _do?"_

"I'd say do nothing."

"Nothing? I can't do _nothing."_

"You have to remember he's not Zahoran. You two are very close friends," he added soothingly. "He'll come to you again. In the mean time, keep busy, mind your Villinari, and _don't_ bring it up again."

Ennica sighed. "I suppose you're right," she said, smiling up at him. "Oh, you're growing up so fast. You're getting wise like your dear mother was, and tall. I can barely reach your cheek to pat it." But she still could and did so. "So I'll go occupy myself in the kitchens. Still plenty to do there. At least I get to keep all the Borg nonsense out."

Lorrit knelt down to crawl back into his console. The circuit was on the floor and the solder had hardened on the board. _Zhat. No big deal. Get the flux, clean the board and start over._ After a few moments he was ready to begin on the circuit again. _Slowly, slowly. This time is better, anyway. I had a little too much solder on the iron before but now..._

"Lorrit?"

_Arrgh._

This time he'd burnt his finger with the iron. He gritted his teeth as he gingerly pulled the hot metal away and a little skin came with it. He squeezed his finger tight in his hand as he stood yet again. This time he found himself nearly eye to eye with Tamaris.

"I can't get her out of my head," said Tamaris without preamble pacing in front of the console, ears furling and unfurling the entire time. "I can't say anything to her but she's there all the time. I've been touching her thoughts lately, only for a few seconds, but I think..."

"You've been what!" said Lorrit, momentarily for getting his pain. "Tamaris, you've got to stop that. _Now_. You know that's forbidden without permission."

"People do it all the time," scoffed Tamaris.

"But it's dangerous. You don't want to fall into Grath."

"Grath? Psh. I only do it once in a while and I can stop anytime I want."

"That doesn't make it right," said Lorrit. "What if B'Elanna found out?"

Tamaris' ears retracted and he looked discomforted.

"Ah, you're right," he grumbled. "But she thinks about me. I sensed it. How do I get the other one out of the picture?"

"That's her decision, isn't it?"

"I suppose." Tamaris grunted again, spun on his heel and stormed off.

Lorrit sighed. Tamaris would continue to watch her thoughts, he knew, but there was very little he could do about it. As the other Zahoran stalked away, the pain in Lorrit's finger gradually got his attention again. He opened his hand to see a mess of blood. He should have left the iron there a few more seconds to seal the wound but he had always been hopeless at dealing with pain.

"Lorrit," he heard someone call. He sighed again. Ever since his 'success' with Helia and Harry, everyone wanted his advice these days. Even a sulky Ayala had come to him after a fight with Meghan. To this day, he wasn't sure how he'd helped, but he liked that it seemed to make his friends feel better to talk to him, so he gave his opinion freely. Now more than ever, while they were busy enough with rebuilding the ship, the grounded crew, out of boredom, all seemed to have very active and troubled love lives. This person, however, he managed a smile for even through his pain. Out of everyone on the ship, even Harry, she was his best friend.

"Hi Jenny," he said. "You seem happy today."

"I am," she replied. I wanted to tell you...Oh! Your finger! You should see the Doctor."

"I'll be fine. What's your news?"

"No, the Doctor. I'll tell you on the way if you really want to know that bad," and with that, she grabbed him by the arm and hauled the big Zahoran off to sick bay.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tamaris' bad mood abated when he walked into engineering and saw B'Elanna covered in grease and barking orders.

"Look," she said as she wagged a hypospanner at an ensign. "The Borg were all about _perfection._ These components have to be placed perfectly. You can't finish your duties if you fry all your fingers off."

"Aye, sir," said the Ensign and ran off to his station.

B'Elanna wiped her forehead with a sleeve then, shifting uncomfortably, decided to strip off her jacket and work in her tank top. She dove back into her console heartily enough but Tamaris sensed she was tired and a break would be welcome. He stepped around her station.

"How are things down here?" he asked as he watched her struggle with a panel.

"You're not on for another hour," she said, glancing up at him.

"No, but I wanted to see how repairs were going before I came on." _I wanted to see you before you escaped._

"Fine, then help me with this panel." Tamaris sat down beside her, braced his feet, and helped her pull. The panel came off with a groan, but it was bent nearly in half. She grumbled as she cast it aside.

"It's been months and nearly everything on this ship is still bent, broken, or melted. I don't know how we're going to get off the ground again."

"We will," said Tamaris. "I doubt you've ever failed at fixing anything in your life." Underneath the Klingon snarl, he could tell that pleased her. "How are the Borg components working out in your section?"

"Great, unless you install them a nanometer out of place. Then they blow up in your face."

"That could be why the Borg have so many artificial limbs," he suggested. "They can't get their voltages straight. Maybe they started assimilating in hopes that one day they'd finally get a good electrician into the collective." He gazed down at her. She was laughing. That was good. She'd needed it. B'Elanna let out a sigh as her laughter faded and she gave Tamaris a small smile looking back up at him.

Tamaris didn't break the following silence. _You and I get along so well,_ he thought, _and we respect each other's work but what is it that make you really fall, B'Elanna Torres? What touches your heart? _He searched. _Persistence, you need to trust that someone will always be there and… ah… Passion. You've been lacking that, I see._

He slowly leaned in towards her. B'Elanna felt rooted to the spot. Even though she wasn't Zahoran and she would only feel the slightest difference, he still let free the full measure of his telepathic emotions. Harry and Helia had said the bond still worked. Maybe, if she only picked up on a little of what he felt…

The give and take of a Zahoran kiss generally makes the knees weak. At least how Tamaris kissed it did. After he pulled away, he fully explored her mind as he searched her eyes to judge the effect. He had moved her. B'Elanna had felt something, he was sure. That was enough for now. If he pushed her too hard she would run and he would lose what little advantage he had.

"You should go," she whispered finally. He nodded, putting on a sullen face, but when he turned away he couldn't help but smirk to himself. He paid the rush he felt when he explored her mind no heed. Everyone does it and like he'd told Lorrit: he could quit whenever he wanted.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

In the first few weeks following Amal Kotay's birth, Kathryn and Chakotay had fully intended to keep up their research on the virus that held them there, but the baby had taken over their time and attention. Not that it was a chore, however. Though their solitude would eventually be an issue it also allowed them all the time needed to care for little Amal and somehow all that time was easily filled. They thought about couples they knew back on Old Earth and wondered how they managed to pull off the hectic schedules that two working parents pushed through week after week. In spite of their situation, they considered themselves lucky.

Until week two.

Janeway awoke from her nap to a cry she didn't recognize yet. She already knew hungry, diaper change, and need to be picked up but this one; it broke her heart to hear it and she nearly ran to the nursery. Chakotay was already there, holding Amal tight against his chest and jouncing him softly as he walked around the room.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice dripping with worry.

"He's got a fever," said Chakotay. "I was going to get a tricorder to scan him but I couldn't bring myself to put him down."

Kathryn felt a knot forming in her throat and immediately held out her arms to take the baby.

"I'm here now," she said. "Go get it." Amal was burning up. It would be ok, she kept telling herself. They still had a replicator and the Starfleet database at their disposal. He'd be fine. Babies got sick all the time. Still, she couldn't shake her anxiety.

Chakotay came back with the tricorder and was beginning to take scans when they heard the unmistakable rumble of a coming plasma storm. Chakotay's face fell.

"I haven't finished all the wall reinforcements yet." They had to be done yearly and he'd started on them as soon as the weather had warmed up but with the new baby the project had been neglected.

"What's done?" asked Kathryn.

"The bedrooms and the living room, but the kitchen isn't finished and that's right in the middle."

"What if it pulls in the roof?"

"We'll have to use the safe room," he said.

"But it's so damp down there," she replied, holding Amal closer.

"We'll take a med kit and see if we can't get his fever down," urged Chakotay. "Kathryn it's too dangerous up here. If it were just us..."

"You're right," she said.

Down in the safe room, Chakotay used a phaser to dry things up a bit while Kathryn tried to freshen up the small bed with some clean blankets, but she made slow progress. Amal fussed in his crib that they had brought down and Kathryn kept checking on him. He seemed to look even paler in the dim light of the single lamp that burned on the wall. Kathryn wished they'd taken the time to make this room a little less gloomy. When Chakotay was finished, he took over bed duties and the three snuggled down to wait out the storm.

"I've given him a small hypospray for his fever," said Kathryn, as she held him close, "but scans aren't showing anything I recognize to say what's wrong."

"Probably some kind of bacteria," said Chakotay, brushing the baby's thin hair off his forehead.

"Even if we narrow it down," said Kathryn, "I'm scared to give him anything else. It's not like we can replicate a whole bunch of medicines and just start trying them out."

"It'll be alright," soothed Chakotay. "Once the storm is over we'll dive into the Starfleet databases and..."

He was interrupted by a loud crash upstairs. Amal let out an indignant wail. Chakotay and Kathryn looked at each other in silence, afraid to think what might now be damaged.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Lorrit nervously clutched a padd as he waited outside Tuvok's ready room. He rarely called on the Captain or spoke to him for that matter. Something about the Vulcan's stoicism had always intimidated the quiet Zahoran. Jenny had tried to explain the Vulcan mind as best she could but even so, Lorrit found that outside of bridge duties, he could barely muster the courage to open his mouth.  
>"Come."<p>

Lorrit hesitated. This was important. He had to go in. His feet felt like blocks of cement as he forced himself to put on in front of the other.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Lorrit," said Tuvok, looking up expectantly.

"I… I've been monitoring the bio-ship's movements," he muttered.

"Go on."

"While on average," he continued quietly, "we're orbited by twenty or so ships; it appears they go on regular patrols every 192 hours. During this time we're left with a minimal guard of anywhere from two to eight vessels for about forty-five minutes. The next one is scheduled for the day after tomorrow."

"Are you sure of this?" asked Tuvok.

"Positive," replied Lorrit, more confidently, handing the Captain the padd he'd brought. "I've been logging their activity since we crashed."

Tuvok's eyebrows popped up as he paged though the information.

"Well done," he said approvingly. "We will make use of this, I am sure. Distribute this information to the rest of the senior staff."

"Repairs are going to be completed late this afternoon," continued Lorrit. "I know everyone is anxious to get off the planet and away form 8472."

"I realize that." Tuvok sighed almost imperceptibly. "But we have yet…"

The conversation was interrupted as the ready room door popped open and the Doctor excitedly rushed in.

"Captain, we've done it!"

"Done what, Doctor?"

"Modified our photon torpedoes to destroy the bio-ships."

"How have you managed this?"

"The Borg nanoprobes were the key," answered the Doctor. "My colleagues and I were able to analyze the DNA residue of the bio-ships pilot. Species 8472's DNA is denser than any organism any of us had ever seen. This is what made them impervious to assimilation. The organic material used in the bio-ships is similar in nature. To break it down, I have modified the nanoprobe recoding mechanism to emit the same electro chemical signatures as the alien cells. That way they are undetectable to the bio-ships immune response and can begin destroying the tissue on the cellular level before the ship even realizes it's there. We've modified four photon torpedoes to carry nanoprobes that will be released on impact."

"And you are confident this will work," asked Tuvok.

"Praefectus Tamaris, Lieutenant Torres and I have tested some smaller prototypes," replied the EMH. "We've personally destroyed every scrap of the crashed alien vessel."

"But what about this planet's atmosphere?" asked Lorrit. "How do you know that wasn't helping?"

"A very astute question," answered the Doctor. "The tests were conducted in a vacuum. The weapons will work in space."

Lorrit turned to Tuvok. "It's the last piece," he said.

Tuvok contemplated the two men before him for a long while. Finally he spoke.

"Tuvok to Commander Paris."

_Paris here, Captain_, returned the com.

"My ready room."

_Yes, sir_.

The ready room doors soon opened.

"What's going on?" asked Tom as he came in off the bridge.

"Begin preparing the crew for departure," ordered Tuvok. "The senior staff will be briefed in exactly one hour. We will be attempting and escape from the planet the day after tomorrow."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Everyone on the bridge was quiet. Even Tuvok could feel the hum of tension as Lorrit performed initial scans. They all turned to opps as the console beep indicated it had completed its task.

"I'm detecting four bio-ships," reported Lorrit.

"It's now or never, Captain," said Tom. "According to Lorrit's logs, this is the least coverage we've had for the last few patrols."

Tuvok's brow furrowed. Only four ships but they only had four nanoprobe photon torpedoes as well. This might be their best chance but they couldn't afford to waste any ammunition. And what if they met other bio-ships further on? Then again, this may be their _only_ chance. Lorrit, Ayala, Tom, and Harry's eyes were all on Tuvok.

"Very well," he said at last. "Mr. Ayala, begin launch sequence. Mr. Kim, arm photon torpedoes and be prepared to lock on target as soon as we clear the atmosphere. On my mark. Engage."

The crew breathed again now that the decision had been made and there were clear orders to follow. Voyager's engines rumbled to life, cleaner than they had since they'd entered the Delta Quadrant. Down in engineering, B'Elanna watched the plasma swirling in the core and realized it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

Up on the bridge, Tom gripped the armrest of his command chair wishing he was on the conn as Voyager made its way through the atmosphere. They were almost out.

"The bio-ships have detected us," said Lorrit. "Two on an intercept course."

"On screen," said Tuvok.

"They're arming weapons," said Harry. "Targeting sensors locked on the first ship."

"The other two vessels are approaching, Captain," announced Lorrit.

"Fire on the first ship," ordered Tuvok.

"Photon torpedo away."

The crew held their breath as they watched the torpedo fly toward the lead bio-ship.

"Direct hit," said Harry, but nothing happened.

"I thought they were supposed to work!" yelled Ayala.

"They were," said Tom. "B'Elanna showed me. I don't understand."

Tuvok was about to give the order to retreat back to the planet when the lead alien vessel began to shudder then explode. Ayala veered quickly to get Voyager out of range of the flying debris.

"Better late than never," laughed Tom as the bridge crew whooped in appreciation.

"Locked on to the next bio-ship," said Harry.

"Fire!"

Ayala pulled Voyager starboard as soon as the torpedo was away. It hit. The crew tensed again as they waited for the nanoprobes to do their work. The second ship was destroyed.

"The other two bio-ships are breaking off pursuit," said Lorrit.

"Lay in a course for Zahora Prime," said the captain. "Warp 9.9."

Lorrit twitched his ears happily as he could feel the elation and relief swell from all over the ship as news of the escape moved from station to station. Tuvok thought he could sense it too. He slowly relaxed back into his captain's chair as he watched the other two bio-ships on the monitor peel away and fall out of sight. Perhaps he alone sensed how badly this crew had needed this small victory. It would buy them a few months of civility at least.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

The plasma storm lasted through the night and until the next morning. When Chakotay and Janeway climbed back upstairs, they looked in dismay at the ruins of the kitchen. Kathryn looked as if she might cry when she saw the replicator had been destroyed as well. Chakotay went over to it to see if it could be quickly repaired but paused as he was picking up a panel.

"Did you hear that?" he asked. Kathryn shook her head, but a few moments later she heard the crackle of a combadge under the mess. Chakotay dug frantically through the debris. He pulled out one of the badges and the two leaned in close to hear what it said.

"...distress...plasma storm...in need of assis...again...Regult of the Trecta...small planet..."

Someone had crashed on New Earth.


	10. Chapter 10

Chairman Regult surveyed the area around their crashed ship with dismay. They had been unable to take any scans of the planet before the plasma storm had come up so he had no idea if it was inhabited or not. Old Anar had been tinkering with their transmitter since they'd recovered from the crash. She'd got it working but was unable to boost the signal any further and Regult was fearful that their distress call might not reach much past the atmosphere. He turned to the wiry man with a sour expression walking quickly up to him. All Trecta had prominent brow ridges and bony nasal bridges but the Chairman had always thought Fidlemere's extra large features sticking out from his rather drawn face made him look particularly venomous. Regult sighed inwardly.

"We need to get moving on repairs," said Fidlemere. "We only have a few more days before the Weldimari rescind their permission to settle."

"We are working on them as we speak," replied Regult. "You know this. Everyone is doing what they can."

"Well they need to move faster," retorted the agitated little man. Regult frowned. While Fidlemere's hyperactivity often worked well for him in diplomatic negotiations, it rarely helped during crisis situations, although Regult was certain Fidlemere believed himself to be expediting things. The Chairman massaged his nasal crest irritably between finger and thumb.

"Fidlemere," he said finally, "have you spoken with Gerrol yet this morning? I believe he was looking for you."

"I have not," said Fidlemere, looking indignant. "Why has no one told me this?"

"Only just heard," replied Regult, hoping what he said was true. Usually it was. When those two talked it often occupied them for hours. "Will you tell him the Council is convening after mid-meal?" There, that gave him an errand. Fidlemere hurried off with a very important gait while Regult walked over to where Oropun had set up a makeshift medical tent. When he went inside he was happy to see only a few Trecta resting there. Oropun however looked exhausted.

"What is our medical status," asked Regult, clapping a friendly hand on the healer's shoulder.

"Between Dalina and I, we've made it around to all one hundred and forty three crew members," said Oropun seating himself heavily on a low cot. "There were some broken bones, but otherwise everyone is fine. All the children are in good shape too. Tough little ones."

"We were lucky," said Regult, sitting down next to Oropun. "Where is your daughter now?"

"Dalina's making one last round. I noticed something strange with my last few patients. Something that looked like a bite from a burrowing insect. There was some evidence of a virus, maybe an infection and I'd like to make sure it's nothing serious."

"Let's hope not," replied the Chairman. "You should try and get some sleep. You've been up all night."

"I just want to see this last bit of data," he replied, stifling a great yawn. "Then maybe..."

"Found ya," said the elderly Trecta lady as she pushed her head through the flap of the tent. "Wondered where you got yourself off to."

"Ah, Anar," said Regult. "Any luck with the transmitter?"

"That depends," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well we got some visitors," she said. "Natives. Heard the distress call, I think. Looks like they need some help themselves though. Marill's talkin to them."

Regult peeked out of the tent at the newcomers talking to his wife, eyeing the tattoos on the foreheads of the alien couple. The woman had a baby in a harness tied to her front. He supposed she needed the apparatus so she could continue to work in the field or some such thing. Though the Trecta had lost a great deal of technology during the occupation of their home world, he was glad they were not so backward as that.

"They look primitive," he said finally. "They seem to be communicating, though. Do you think they have some natural linguistic ability?"

Anar peeked out as well and gave a noncommittal grunt. She'd been the only one to see the family of aliens approach. They'd seemed cautious at first. The male had appeared to have been taking scans with a piece of technology as the couple circled their camp and the female had kept one hand in between herself and the baby at all times. Anar suspected the sling was as much for concealment as it was for carrying the child. The two pulled their head in the tent as they saw the group walking towards it.

"Their boy is ill," said Marill as she came through the flap.

"Bring them in then," replied Oropun, wearily getting to his feet. As tired as he was, he still managed a friendly smile for the new comers during the introductions. "What seems to be the trouble with the little man?" he asked, holding out his hands to take Amal.

"He had a fever," answered Chakotay, taking the infant from Kathryn and passing him to Oropun. Anar, ever watchful, couldn't help but notice the woman's hand that seemed to steady something behind the sling.

"I see you've gotten that down," replied Oropun, gently laying the baby on the cot. He took out an instrument and looked in Amal's ears and down his throat. "Yep, just as I thought."

"What is it?" asked Kathryn.

"Just a simple infection," answered the healer. "Not exactly one I've seen before but similar enough to what's common in this sector of space. You both probably had it too but your immune systems took care of it already. He's too little to fight it off on his own just yet." He went to a small machine at the edge of the tent and created a dropper full of tonic.

"He'll need a few more doses of this but our synthesizer is about out of energy," he said apologetically as he squeezed the medicine down the baby's throat. Amal wrinkled up his nose and kicked his feet indignantly. "I know, it tastes bad," cooed Oropun, smiling at the infant as he handed him back to Kathryn.

"We have similar technology," said Chakotay. "It was damaged in the storm. Once we get it fixed, we shouldn't have to impose anymore."

"Do you often have storms of this nature?" asked Regult.

"They're pretty inconsistent," replied Kathryn, rubbing Amal's back as he snoozed on her chest. "There's a species of small primate here that seems to be able to sense when they're coming. We try to encourage our monkey friend to stick around."

"How was your synthesizer damaged?" asked Regult. He was slightly worried about the violence of the storms. If another one hit soon, they might not ever get their ship off the ground. Chakotay sheepishly tugged on his ear.

"I'm afraid that's my fault," he said. "The weather just warmed up enough to start on the annual wall reinforcements, but I'd been spending all my time with the baby. Our kitchen wall fell in."

"Why didn't you ask your neighbors for help?" asked Marill. "For something that important…"

"Actually," replied Kathryn, "we're the only ones here."

"All by yourselves!" exclaimed Oropun. "How did you ever get into that fix?"

Kathryn laughed at the healer's surprise.

"We used to be explorers," she explained. "We traveled around on a ship called Voyager. We'd stopped here to look around and possibly replenish our food stores but Chakotay and I were both bitten by an insect that gave us a virus. It's harmless if you remain on planet but deadly if you try to leave. I tried to find a cure but much of my research got destroyed in the first storm we encountered." Kathryn saw Oropun cast a worried look at Regult.

"Only two of you were infected?" asked the healer.

"Yes," answered Chakotay. "There were several different species on our ship. That may have been a factor or something about our own immune systems. The crew had a long journey home so they had to go on without us."

"How long have you been here?" asked Regult.

"Three years," answered Kathryn.

"Three years alone with your husband!" exclaimed Marill. "That must have been tedious!" Regult shuffled his feet as he looked down at them. Kathryn smiled mischievously.

"Well, we've only been married a year, but we get on alright."

The conversation was interrupted by fourteen year old Dalina, who had entered the tent.

"Father," she said, looking around at the new arrivals. "I've finished the blood work you asked for." She handed Oropun a tablet much like a large padd. It dinged softly as he paged through the data. He frowned at what he read.

"It appears the Trecta are tastier than your species," he said to Chakotay and Kathryn, handing her the tablet. "Any of this look familiar?"

"I'm afraid so," answered Kathryn as she paged through. "But I can't tell if it affects you the same as humans. You all might be able to leave. Although, there's plenty of room here. You could always stay." Kathryn didn't say it out loud, but deep down, for Amal's sake, she hoped they would. When she and Chakotay had circled the camp, they had seen the place where the children were being minded. Many were only slightly older than Amal. Though she knew it was selfish, her heart had leapt at the idea of her little boy having playmates. There were enough of the new comers to start a colony and plenty of space on the planet for them to settle and grow.

"We'll definitely have to consider it," said Oropun to Regult. "A good deal of the Trecta seem to be infected, and I'm against risking it."

"We'll discuss it in council," answered Regult. "It'll have to be a unanimous decision but it seems to be a real possibility that we'll have to stay."

Oropun suddenly smacked himself on the arm and then closely examined the now familiar telltale red ring-like welt forming there.

"A very real possibility," he replied.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

The Trecta council convened that day after mid-meal as planned. Chairman Regult looked around the table at Oropun, Fidlemere, Gerrol, and Anar. Everyone seemed to be in a foul mood, including the elderly lady. The female human, Kathryn, had dropped off a summary of her research for them a little bit ago. Oropun had only had time to briefly review it, but it gave him little hope. Her work along with their ship's physician's had be too thorough. Oropun couldn't think of anything else to try.

"Oropun," the Chairman said they all took their seats. "What news on the virus?"

The healer sighed. He didn't like to be called on first.

"It isn't good," he replied. "From what I can tell, they were able to kill the initial virus easily enough but there is something that lingers in the bloodstream. Once an infected person leaves the planet, that lingering element turns toxic and fatal. I believe our species are similar enough that it would affect the Trecta in the same manner."

"And you can do nothing for this?" asked Regult.

Oropun shook his head. "They've tried all that I would have."

"Nonsense," said Fidlemere. "If you'd just get your experiments set up again, you're certain to find something.

"Experiments!" exclaimed Gerrol. "He's certain to blow us all up if he does that."

"I'm only saying I have confidence in our healer," answered Fidlemere. "He needs to get going at any rate. The Weldimari won't wait for us long."

"Oropun," asked Anar. "How many of us got the bug?"

"After further examination, I'd say at least 40% certainly do and who knows how many more before we actually leave."

"That many," said Regult. "Is anyone here willing to risk the lives of that many crew members to try and make it to the new planet?"

"But what about all my work with the Weldimari?" asked Fidlemere angrily. "Maybe those who are healthy can carry on."

"We are all grateful for your work," said Regult, "but many more may have to stay by the time the ship is running and you might not have enough crewmembers to run it."

"I see," grumbled Fidlemere.

"Maybe this is a blessing in disguise," said Oropun. "All we wanted was a new place to live freely. We had that on Weldimar but they only begrudgingly allowed us space. Here we're free to start over however we want. The humans seemed willing to share the planet with us so why not accept their offer."

The council was silent, mulling over Oropun's words.

"So we are all decided?" asked Regult. "We will remain on the planet?" The room was quiet as the others all nodded in agreement.

"Fine we stay," said Fidlemere. Regult thought the man almost sounded sad. "But Chairman, what in the devil will I do here?" he blurted out. "I was to be the liaison to the Weldimari. Once we got to Weldimar you know they would not want to leave us in peace. I was going to keep that peace in spite of them. I had a purpose. But now… I say again, Regult. What am I to do here?"

Regult laid a friendly hand on the councilman's shoulder, now understanding his opposition. "You'll still be on the council, of course. I have always valued your opinion and we're building a whole new way of life here. We'll need all the ideas you have to offer."

Fidlemere grunted in response but seemed soothed for the moment.

"I think you ought to include them two humans on the council too," added Anar. "I think it's time for me to step down. I'm old and tired. Someone needs to take my place."

"Yes, yes," grumbled Gerrol, "but why the humans?"

Anar narrowed her eyes at Gerrol. "Ya don't need to be so quick at agreein how old I am, sonny. And why them you ask? Regult already said it. We're settin up a new way of livin, but what do we know about that? Especially in a place like this. Back on Trector nothing was green or fresh anymore. Everything you owned was spit out of a synthesizer. Plus the Ribiddians were never for letting us think for ourselves. For the last forty years we been told what to say and where to live. I doubt any o you even know when to use the toilet without bein ordered to. We're lucky we made it this far."

The council shifted uncomfortably.

"Still," said Gerrol, not to be gainsaid. "What does that have to do with the natives?"

"What we need to do to survive in this place, well, them folks already done it. It would be smart of y'all to listen to em. They seem a friendly sort. I'm sure they'd be willing to help."

"You're probably right, Anar," said Regult.

"Course I am," the old lady answered smugly. "You ever gone wrong listening to me?"

"Never," chuckled Oropun. "Might I suggest the first thing I believe we ought to do is offer to help them reconstruct the wall of their house."

"Help _them,_" spluttered Gerrol. "I thought it was to be the other way around."

"No," grumbled Fidlemere. "I think Oropun's got the right of it.

"Yes," agreed Regult. "By helping them, not only have we made a friend, but we learn how to build against the storms."

"Exactly," said Anar. "You all go round up some more strong backs. I'll meet you folks down by the edge of the woods. Gotta get my walkin shoes."

"Anar, it's quite a hike," protested Regult.

"Oh, hush," she answered. "I ain't that old yet. I'm in the mood for a good visit with these folks. I'm goin."

Regult knew better than to argue. Anar had always seemed to have a way of taking charge that he, even as Chairman, had never quite mastered. He nodded and with that the council got up and made their way to round up a crew.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Kathryn had been skeptical when Anar had offered to help fix their replicator but once she had reviewed a few things from their database and went to work Kathryn had to admit, the elderly lady knew her stuff. Now Anar was kneeling on the ground head first into the guts of the replicator. Chakotay, with the help of their new friends had erected a makeshift wall to enclose the kitchen and were now quickly building a new permanent one. Kathryn had almost finished cleaning up the mess inside.

"All done," said Anar, putting the panel back on the front and getting up off the ground slowly with her hand on her back. "Old bones ain't what they used to be. Mind if I try it out and make sure it's worikin?"

"As long as you make me some coffee when you're finished," said Kathryn. She'd just fed Amal and put him down. One cup shouldn't hurt. Anar came over from the replicator chewing on the stem of an unlit pipe and put the coffee in front of Kathryn as they both sat at the kitchen table. She also had a bag of tobacco with her.

"Saw this when I was lookin up some specs on your machine. Thought I'd try it out."

"Tobacco isn't the healthiest thing for you," said Kathryn.

"Eh," laughed Anar and waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Neither is caffeine from what I could tell. We all need our vices."

"Thank you for fixing the replicator. I don't know when we would have gotten to it with everything going on."

"It's nothing, dearie, but I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."

"Name it."

"Been reading through some of your other stuff in your databases and I saw a few more things I was interested in. Mind if I download some of your literature? Been a while since I had a new story."

"Feel free—there are quite a few classics: Bronte, Dickens, Shakespeare, Dante. I'll find you a padd or two."

"I was interested in this guy," said Anar, turning the monitor over to her and pulling up her find. "Tarentino. His work seems...colorful. Lots of words that don't translate, though. He uses this one a lot: fu..."

"Anar! I have to tell you, that's a pretty strong swear word where we come from."

Anar giggled at that. "Even better! Oh, I won't use it around you and Chakotay if it offends you," she added when she saw the look on Kathryn's face, "but if I can get Gerrol riled over it, it'll be worth knowing. Don't worry, I'll check out some of your other suggestions too."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

May 2376

Harry, Helia, and their first born child, who had come in to the world just two weeks ago were behind a large screen in the mess hall getting ready for the traditional Zahoran naming ceremony. The silks were hung at the far end of the hall. No one would be allowed to see the child until the official Zhabino Giratti had begun. There was much speculation about the baby but the Doctor was staying tight lipped on the subject.

This ceremony was much more intimate than the wedding had been; only close friends were to be invited. Tom, B'Elanna, Neelix, Ennica, and Lorrit were already sitting in the two rows of chairs in the front near the silks. They'd gotten there early to get good seats. Samantha Wildman, Nellio and Blouxe were there as well and Naomi and Whed were running, giggling between the chairs. Few people in the room took the time to check them, not that they wouldn't have sat quietly, Whed especially. His extreme reserve, beyond that of even adult composure, had followed him into his early childhood. It still worried his parents though they had yet to find a cause. He seldom laughed and never cried. Blouxe often said she'd be relieved at a good hearty tantrum. When he played with Naomi, however, he seemed almost like any other child his age. For that, and the fact that each child's parents were grateful the other had a playmate, the two were usually allowed to run wild.

Naomi and Whed were not the only children aboard Voyager, though. Over the last few years, there had been somewhat of a baby-boom. Nearly a quarter of the crew had paired off and started a family. One such couple came into the mess hall next: Joe Carey with his wife Sarah, who worked in the transporter room. He was holding their daughter, Janet, who was only a few months old.

"I didn't realize they'd be here," said B'Elanna.

"Sarah got to know Helia through Meghan and Jenny," supplied Neelix. "They're all very close."

"I'm surprised Carey married again," said B'Elanna. "I thought he had a family back home."

"Which he may never see again," said Tom. "We've still got another sixty years out here. Can you blame him?"

"I guess not," she replied.

The next group to come in was Ayala with Meghan Delaney. Their son, Salvatore, who had just turned one, was in his mother's arms, snoozing on her shoulder. Behind them came Jenny Delaney on the arm of Vorik.

"So Jenny finally snagged Vorik!" exclaimed B'Elanna. "I thought she'd at least have to wait until his Ponn Far."

"Everyone thought so," said Lorrit, "but apparently Vulcans can marry anytime they want."

"Marry?" said Ennica. "I didn't know."

"Well, they've been engaged for a while now," answered Lorrit, "but be quiet. They haven't announced it yet."

"I always thought you were interested in Jenny," said Tom.

"No," the Zahoran answered. "We've always just been close friends. Besides, you know how quiet I am. I need someone with confidence enough for both of us and she's gotta be smart but still a little naïve like me. I don't want to have to feel stupid _all _the time. And don't tell any of the other Zahorans I said this," he said turning to Ennica, "but I _really_ like the blue eyes some of the humans have."

Krestic and Preva came in next and took seats with Nellio and Blouxe. They were followed by a few of Harry's security staff and the Doctor who made his way to the chair next to Lorrit.

"Hello everyone," he said genially as he held up his holo-imager. "I hope all of you will be ready to pose for some images with the baby after the ceremony."

The entire group turned on the EMH, although this time it was not out of annoyance at his ever clicking holo-imager. Besides Harry and Helia, he was the only one to have seen the baby and was soon bombarded with questions.

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Do they have green hair?"

"Is it twins? I heard a rumor it was twins."

"Now, now," said the Doctor, smug in his knowledge. "I thought half the fun of the Zhabino Giratti was the surprise."

"I was told," said Tom, "that the fun part was trying to get someone with knowledge to spill the beans."

"He's right," agreed Lorrit. "What about their toes? Do they have eight like a Zahoran?"

"Forget their toes," put in Ennica. "What about their lobes? Do they have strong lobes? Even for half Zahorans, it's important that they have strong lobes."

"Doctor-patient confidentiality," smirked the hologram. "You'll get nothing out of me. I _will_ say that the infant is a healthy happy child and you will see everything else you need to know in a few moments."

"So there _is_ only one," said Neelix. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"And we knew the baby was healthy," added Tom.

"Of course," replied the Doctor. "My pediatric skills are getting better and better every day.

"You _have_ delivered a lot of babies lately," said B'Elanna. All of a sudden her expression changed as if she'd just noticed something for the first time. "All of them live on deck four or at least one of their parents did and the couples chose that deck to live on when they moved in together."

"You put something in the replicated water on deck four, Doc?" asked Tom. Lorrit and Ennica exchanged twitchy-eared looks.

"No," replied the Doctor, "but I was waiting for someone to make that connection. You'll note that Whed and his family also live on that deck."

"So it _is_ the Illito!" burst out Lorrit.

"The what?" asked Neelix.

"The baby-instinct," replied Ennica.

"Zahorans are telepathic from the time their higher brain-function develops in the womb," explained the Doctor. "The Illito most likely evolved to keep young Zahorans from wreaking havoc with their mental abilities. It generally fades as their speech improves and is gone by four or five of our years."

"What does that have to do with all the children?" asked B'Elanna.

"In adult Zahorans," explained Lorrit, "the Illito produces a caregiving response."

"Exactly," continued the Doctor. "Humans however seem to react by feeling the need to reproduce themselves. Whed's Illito had all but faded so I thought the baby-boom was over but now with this new little one..."

"Harry and Helia are on _my _floor," said Tom quietly, almost to himself. His forehead was wrinkled and he seemed a little confused.

"This baby isn't full Zahoran," put in the Doctor, "so we really don't know how they will affect the crew."

Tom nodded silently. The entire group turned to see the next group of guests walk in which included Tuvok, who closed the doors behind them.

"Tamaris isn't coming?" asked Neelix.

"He and Helia aren't that close," replied B'Elanna, "and someone had to watch engineering." Neelix thought he caught a smug look on Tom's face as he slid his hand into B'Elanna's.

"May I?" asked Tuvok, walking up to the group and motioning to a chair next to them.

"Of course, Captain," replied Tom. "Have a seat!"

The ceremony was about to start. Samantha and Blouxe were calling to their children to sit down and Naomi immediately went to her mother. Whed, however, crept his way over to where Tuvok was sitting and tapped on his arm. Whed stood on tip toes as Tuvok bent down to let the little Zahoran whisper in his ear.

"You may," replied Tuvok. Tom thought he saw the Vulcan's expression soften a little as Whed clambered into the chair next to him, crawled under his arm, and settled down to chew on a thumb.

"What do you think, Captain?" asked Tom. "Boy or girl?"

"We shall soon see," said Tuvok, nodding toward the front, as Harry and Helia emerged from behind the screen.


	11. Chapter 11

Helia, holding a well swaddled baby, followed by Harry, walked out from behind the screen and across the mess hall where the Zahoran silks were raised. Both were wearing simple robes dyed in swirls of the six shades of green to match the silks.

"What _are_ we going to see, whispered Neelix to Ennica.

"First they will show the child," replied Ennica, as Helia held up the baby and Harry unwrapped him. "Then the parents will pass the baby back and forth until they bond with one of them where they then telepathically tell that parent their name."

"How will we know when they've bonded?"

"Oh, you'll _know," _she said smiling confidently. "Though sometimes it takes a while. Some naming ceremonies I've been to take weeks."

"Weeks?"

"If the baby is particularly stubborn, but I don't think this one will. In cases where one parent is a different species, the child almost invariably chooses the Zahoran."

"Do they bond to only one parent," asked Neelix, thinking it must be sad for whoever the baby doesn't pick.

"Oh, no. A few months later, they connect to the other as well, though it is never as strong as it is with the name parent and then at some point before they have seven secras, or five human years, they choose a Zhab."

"Zhab?"

"Bond-parent. The closest example I can give you would be the human god parent except the Zhab has full parental rights."

"But what about..."

"We must be quiet now," interrupted Ennica gently, pointing to the front.

Helia held up the unwrapped baby for the room to see, smiling as she displayed him.

"Here is our son!" she cried proudly. The child had chubby cheeks like marshmallows and he came with all the traditional Zahoran features: a thick shock of lime green hair, a full five lobes on each ear that twitched and fanned at the crowd, and the deepest emerald eyes you'd ever seen. Ennica did take the time to whisper that those might not stay that way. Other than those features, however, even at only two weeks, the boy looked like a miniature Harry Kim, including ten toes.

A small burst of tricorder beeps erupted in the room as hundreds of replicator rations changed hands. Betting was also a traditional part of the Zhabino Giratti. Harry then took the infant to show him and repeated the words. This time the baby blew raspberries at the guests.

"He's going to be a trouble maker," snickered Lorrit.

Harry then handed the baby back to Helia who cradled him, whispering to him in Zahoran.

_Ang ki zhabinari. Ang ki. Neft'ra kol metti ki kolan girat?_

Helia was silent for a moment, fanning her ears at the child. The silks rustled and waved in her mental energy but the baby only gurgled at her. She passed him to Harry. He repeated the Zahoran words when he was finished he said them again in English.

_To me, little one. To me. Won't you tell me your name?_

Nothing seemed to happen. Harry moved to hand the baby back to Helia but then the silks started to ripple like a stream over rocks. Harry froze where he was, staring down at his son. The boy returned the intent look and fanned his ears bringing them forward. Harry's expression, which had started out as curious, soon changed to that of awe, and, as it made its final shift to joy, a warm blanket of that emotion crept around the room and touched everyone in it. Parents nestled their children closer. Friends patted each other on the back. B'Elanna laid her head on Tom's shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her and squeezed her tight. Tuvok looked down at little Whed, still by his side and felt a protective sensation he hadn't noticed since his own children were small. He mussed Whed's lime green hair in a fatherly fashion as the child snuggled closer and began to fall asleep.

Neelix, however, was discomforted. It seemed as if something in his heart had been missing for some time now and he began to realize, that while he would always love Kes, he hadn't thought about her, not really, for years now. He glanced over at Ennica, who seemed sad as she gazed down quietly at the floor. Neelix didn't have to think twice as he reached over to entwine his fingers into hers. Ennica returned his gaze and smiled.

Harry was now holding the baby up for everyone to see again and grinning from ear to ear.

"His name," he announced proudly, "is Hos. Hos Kim."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tom was quiet as he walked B'Elanna back to her quarters. She'd given up on conversation back at the ceremony. Once Hos had been named everyone seemed to retreat into their own thoughts. Now she was tired, and badly wanted her own bed. She was almost thankful for Tom's silence. Even if he did want to come in, he'd probably just want to sleep. When they got to her door, he leaned over and kissed her softly but didn't turn to go.

"Is everything ok?" she asked when she saw the look in his eye.

"I don't know," he replied. "I wanted to ask you something tonight but after the conversation earlier…" He took a deep breath. "No. This is right. B'Elanna…" Tom dropped down on one knee. "Marry me."

B'Elanna's mouth opened and closed a few times.

"Tom,' she spluttered. "I've thought about this moment so many times, but after this evening I'm worried. I don't want you to purpose just because we're under some alien influence to have children."

Tom hung his head and stood, drawing her close to him. "Maybe we are. When I saw the look on Harry's face as he held Hos, well, I can't deny it made me want that too. One thing I'm positive the baby has no influence over, though, is that you are the only one I will ever want that with."

B'Elanna was speechless. She'd wanted this for a while now herself, but unbidden thoughts of Tamaris' kiss popped suddenly to her mind.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tamaris paced heatedly in his quarters. He'd left his shift a little earlier than he probably should have but this was important. He was in B'Elanna's mind almost constantly now and when he'd heard this last conversation… Somewhere deep down he felt guilty about listening in on Tom and B'Elanna but the urge of Grath was full on him now and it was impossible not to give in. He could never stray too far from her thoughts without discomfort. Tamaris was sensing doubt. Tom had purposed and B'Elanna had doubted and there was…Tamaris froze where he was, hopeful like he'd never been before.

He felt her mind as her thoughts made their rounds. His face moved to the fore front. It was the kiss. She was thinking about the kiss. The moment Tom had purposed to her she was feeling… guilt. Deep intense guilt. Then thoughts of Tom flashed by, one after another. _Their _first kiss, dates, dances, gifts, and love. It was an overwhelming passionate kind of love, but it wasn't for Tamaris. He'd lost. It was over.

Tamaris keeled over onto the floor, brought down by the effort it took to wrench his thoughts back to himself. Severing a mental connection for one in Grath was like severing a limb. As he lay on the floor he realized he would need to go to Krestic. The thought of admitting his addiction seemed even more painful that the disconnection had been, but it had to be. He needed help. He had to do it; for her.

Maybe he could just die here on the floor. Maybe he could touch her mind just one last time. He could _make _her love him, if he wanted. No. Deep down she'd know and never really be happy. What was it he wanted from her anyway? What did he want? He wanted to be the one to make her happy, but that wasn't to be. Someone else filled that role. She loved Tom and she'd made her choice. She was happy.

Tamaris was overcome by a brief moment of clarity. _So I've got what I really want in the end: her happiness._

Exhausted, his eyes began to slide shut. _I will see Krestic tomorrow. Maybe this really was love,_ he thought as he let himself pass into a fitful sleep.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tamaris' ears were as compact as they'd ever been as he walked into Krestic's quarters. The silks were raised though somehow they seemed less colorful than they had the last time he saw them. Under the silks stood the other Zahorans from his crew but without the children. Their minds were closed to him. It was like stepping into a void; a deep silence that no one other than a Zahoran could possibly understand.

_So this is my punishment,_ he cried out in his mind. _To bear the burden of eternal silence from my people?_ His anger even surprised him. He had meant to be humble.

_Hush, Tamaris,_ Preva thought, stepping forward. _It is necessary for now. You are here to be healed, not punished. We do not judge. You have endured that which is a risk for all our people. Grath is a part of our minds that every Zahoran must battle everyday of our lives. You have fought that battle and had the wisdom to return to us. Now we only forgive and heal._ Tamaris wasn't sure how wise he'd been in any of this but he nodded in acceptance of her words.

_Come to us_, said Preva gently as she guided him to the center of the silks. The other Zahorans circled around him, putting their closed fist to their shoulder, the Zahoran gesture of greeting and farewell. Tamaris smirked as he thought of its meaning: keep your thoughts close. It was a reminder against Grath. The other Zahorans closed their eyes and raised their faces. As their lobes fanned to their full extent, the silks began to move in the waves of thoughts that they sent through the room. Tamaris could feel love swirling warm and soft around him and pierce his heart. He could no longer fight back the smile that spread across his face as he lifted it to join in the chant.

_Illitara, mind of minds, who awoke us from the void. Help this man's soul find him again. Help the other five facets grow strong to balance Grath. Remind him of the wisdom that must pair with the gift._

Gratitude welled up in Tamaris as the pain seeped out of him and the chant went on. Only when he was healed would they stop, but he knew he would live. He could go on another day and another and another and he was grateful for every one of those days. He smiled wider, feeling the simple joy of being alive.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

August 2378

Kathryn stared lazily at the heated rocks on the hearth. The stone fireplace was the latest addition Chakotay had made to their home, and right now she was especially grateful for it. She was past full term with their second child and this pregnancy was taking a toll on her feet. They were propped up on a cushion and absorbing the soothing warmth from the rocks.

"Amal's finally asleep," said Chakotay, coming out of the two-year-old's bedroom and settling down on the sofa next to Kathryn. She snuggled into him and made a face as she rubbed her belly. The baby was kicking up a storm tonight.

"You'd think, with how much this one is squirming around, he'd be a little more anxious to get out," she said as she shifted again.

"He'll come out when he's ready," said Chakotay laying a hand on her stomach.

"You'd be talking a lot differently if you were the one carrying him," she said. "I can tell he's not as big as Amal was, but he's certainly a lot feistier."

"Any day now," he replied comfortingly. "Have you thought anymore about what you want to call him?"

"Some," she said. "But you remember how it was with Amal. I'd like to see him first, before we decide."

The two had settled down into a hazy snooze when they heard a knock at the door. Kathryn and Chakotay were instantly awake and on alert. It was late for a simple visit. Chakotay went to see who the visitor was. When he opened the door, Anar stood on the other side looking more serious than they had ever seen the normally jovial old lady.

"Is everything, alright, Anar," asked Chakotay as she quickly pushed past him.

"Don't know," she said looking anxiously behind her. "Shut that, son, will you?"

Kathryn looked up at their friend as she walked swiftly into the living room.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Something's happened," Anar answered. "Heard a crash from my little cabin and went down to investigate. Don't worry. They didn't see me. Didn't get too good of a feeling from these new comers though. You got one of them tri-whats-its? You know, that thing you had to scan with when we first met you. That should tell you all kinds of stuff about them, right?"

Janeway and Chakotay eyed each other. A tricorder would tell them quite a bit about a crashed ship. Anar went on.

"I expect the council is gonna be calling you up here, soon, to go have a look see at the new folks. I just thought I'd suggest you bring one."

"If they do call," said Chakotay, "I don't think I should go. Kathryn's due any day, any minute now really and I should be here."

"I'll stay with her if they call," said Anar. "I've had to deliver a few babies in my time."

"When the council convenes in the morning..." began Chakotay, but he didn't get to finish. Their Trecta com dinged softly. He went over to it and apprehensively hit the button.

"Chakotay here."

"Ah, Chakotay," said the voice of Regult. "I'm glad you're still awake. There's been an incident."

"We've heard. A crash?"

"Yes. I know this will be difficult, with Kathryn's pregnancy and all, but I think it might be important for you to come into town." Chakotay looked at Kathryn, who now seemed concerned. She nodded to him that he should go.

"I can come. Anar's here. She'll keep Kathryn company."

"That was lucky," said Regult. "See you in chambers."

"Lucky," chortled Anar, in her gravely old lady voice. "I like that."

After Chakotay set out for the council meeting, Anar fussed over Kathryn but she found she was too agitated to sleep. Kathryn hoped her friend was over reacting to the new arrivals but somehow she didn't think the elderly lady was the type. She was itching to investigate herself.

"You just calm down," said Anar. "Your husband will tell you everything when he gets home."

"I know," replied Kathryn. "I'm just not the type to sit around when there's a situation."

"I figured as much. Lemme warm this hearth up. That'll help you relax."

"Behind the stone above the mantle, the one with the knob on it, there's the…fire place tool. If you put it on its lowest setting you can use it to heat the rocks. Bring it here. I'll help you with it."

"I got it. I got it," said Anar, pulling the phaser out of the compartment. _Fire place tool_ she snickered to herself, eyeing Kathryn with a knowing smile and shooting the stones until they glowed red again. She turned back to her friend to make sure she was settling down finally but instead, Kathryn has sat up straighter and had both hands on her stomach, eyes wide.

"Anar," she said in an apprehensive tone. "Apparently this one doesn't want to sit around either."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

As the council walked through the forest toward the crash site, Chakotay hung toward the back of the group just on the edge of the ring of light from the torch Oropun carried. Gerrol and Fidlemere were bickering as usual, and Chakotay could tell Regult was mentally elsewhere, trying to block it out. Chakotay hoped they would get it together before they made contact but he was in no position to give orders. Off to the left among the trees, Chakotay noticed a glint of metal. He peered into the darkness and saw the looming shadow of the crashed ship. The new comers were probably camped in the clearing a little further on. He glanced ahead of him at the rest of his company. They hadn't paid him any heed for a while now. Chakotay waited until the glow of the torch had moved on a few more yards before he slipped off into the woods and lit his Starfleet issue wrist torch.

The closer he got to the ship the more he realized how large it was, nearly the size of Voyager but of no build they'd ever encountered. He began scanning as he walked around its perimeter. He got very few readings but those he did get were ominous. His face grew grim as he began scanning what he assumed was the cargo bay.

"Tic'tau!" a voice called off in the distance.

"Right here, Durah'kett," another voice yelled back, a little too close for Chakotay's comfort. He doused the wrist light and made his way further around the ship in the opposite direction from Tic'tau. Chakotay backed slowly into the trees but stayed close enough to listen as he saw the other alien's shadow approach. He couldn't get a good look at them but they seemed much taller than humans and he could make out two prominent cranial crests silhouetted in the moonlight.

"What are you doing out here?" asked Durah'kett.

"Thought I saw something," replied the other. "Gone now."

"Probably a reflection. This moon is obscenely bright. I've seen eyes reflecting in the trees too. They seem like the tiny-men but won't stay still long enough for me to get a good look."

"The tiny-men!" exclaimed Tic'tau. "But that means we're on…"

"The bug planet," said Durah'kett with disgust. "Of all the bloody haven ports we could crash on it would be this one."

"It's the last place the Amalgam would look for us."

"Maybe but we've got the rendezvous to make. We need to refit the ship so we can get off within a few days. Round up the explosives. We'll start blasting in the morning."

"We could just call Rid'hirick," Tic'tau suggested. "He could always bring us the alloy. I heard the last crew that was stranded here had to dig deep to find any. The supply is running short."

"It will take years for him to steal enough."

"After the last encounter with Tadporian it might do us well to lay low for that long. We might be losing quite a bit of profit on this cargo, but I'd rather do that than be captured by that bloody toad-man. There's an election going on in the Amalgam so he's been hard on the Azhatti as of late."

Durah'kett considered. "Very well. I'll relay a message to Rid'hirick but we still blast…what was that?"

Chakotay heard it too. It was the Trecta coming up on the Azhatti camp. He quickly fell back into the woods to quietly rejoin his group.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"Where have you been?" asked Gerrol irritably as Chakotay hurried to catch up to the group.

"Nature called," he answered, sheepishly tugging on his ear. "What's going on?"

"Talking to the new comers."

Chakotay and Gerrol walked up to the group. Chakotay stood behind Fidlemere who was glowering at the alien while he spoke. By the leader's voice, Chakotay understood he was finally getting a good look at Durah'kett but his tone was entirely different. The new aliens had grey horned skin and two cranial crests that ran parallel from their brow-ridge to the back of their neck. Their eyes were grey and watery as well, and darted everywhere while they talked. Their appearance was hard as nails, however Durah'kett's voice had changed to silvery tones as he chatted up the Trecta and in spite of his hoary face, his smile was gold.

"Oh, I know about the virus," he said genially. "We've landed here before, though our remedies will unfortunately only work for our species. We'll be fine. Don't you worry. Tomorrow we'll need to move a few clicks to the west..."

"But the town is there," said Oropun. "Whatever you need, I'm sure we can help but..."

"Your town?" Chakotay saw the smile falter for only a nanosecond but came right back. "I'm sure things will all work out. We'll just..."

"I think you've got a fine camp right here," Fidlemere interrupted. "I think you should just stay put for now. No sense in uprooting your crew if you're leaving soon."

_Good for you_, thought Chakotay. _Stand your ground. _He leaned in close to Fidlemere and whispered, "Kathryn." Fidlemere grunted quietly and nodded.

"Furthermore," he went on, "our council will have to meet to discuss what aid we are capable of giving you. That might take a few days. One of our council members is indisposed at the moment. Once she's up and around we will be more than happy to discuss things."

"She?" smirked Durah'kett? They had women in their government? That was perfect. It usually meant weakness. "I understand," he replied smiling again. "For now we'll just..."

"For now I think it best you stay put," said Fidlemere firmly. "Our boarder is near the river, just so you know. I realize you've been here before, sir, but things have changed some as they are wont to do."

"Yes," responded Durah'kett. "I see that they have." Fine. He would play their game. It didn't matter. He would get what he wanted. He always did.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

It was late by the time Chakotay walked up the path to his house. The Starfleet wrist torch cut a bright tunnel through the darkness under the trees. He mulled over the events of the night as he walked. The scans he'd taken of the Azhatti cargo bay did not bode well for the Trecta. The newcomers had arrived heavily armed and from what he could tell, the technology was not all from the same source. The Azhatti could be pirates or thieves though Chakotay assumed by the silver tongue of Durah'kett they were probably arms dealers. They seemed to know how to get off the planet as well, though he was apprehensive about just where they were thinking about blasting.

As Chakotay cleared the forest he looked up at the house. Their bedroom light was still on. He hoped Kathryn hadn't waited for him. She needed her rest. Anar would know better than to keep her up. He quickened his pace as he approached the house.


	12. Chapter 12

"Give him here, Anar," smiled Kathryn from her bed. "He's probably hungry again."

"He's still sleeping," the old lady replied. "You need your sleep too. I got him safe until Chakotay gets home. Oh alright."

"I'm fine," said Kathryn taking the baby back. The new little one with thick dark hair already on his head, opened his eyes and gurgled at his mother. He'd let out a hearty yell when he came into the world but now he lay contentedly in her arms.

"I'll say one thing for him," said Anar chewing on the end of her unlit pipe, "once he made up his mind to make an appearance, there was no stopping him. It's almost immoral how quick he came out, unless all human babies are like that."

"No, they are definitely not. Amal took a half a day."

"Well, it was about time for this one, anyway. He ought to be ashamed wearing his poor mother out like that. Whatcha gonna call him?"

"I don't know yet. Chakotay and I wanted to wait until we saw him. I was going to suggest Edward after my father but now..."

Anar looked at the little boy thoughtfully.

"Nope. Doesn't fit."

"He's dark, like his papa," said Kathryn, "but..."

The two women jumped as the front door slammed shut. The baby let out a wail. An instant later Chakotay was in the door way.

"What are ya banging around for?" scolded Anar. "Just got the other little man to sleep."

"I'm sorry," spluttered Chakotay. "The wind..."

They heard some faint whimpering from the other bedroom. "Aw never mind, I got him. You go see your son." She patted Chakotay heartily on the back as she walked out the door. "Meemaw's coming Amal, you just hang tight."

Kathryn beamed at Chakotay as he sat down on the bed next to her and she handed him the new baby. He thought she looked exhausted, more so than she had with their first son.

"I should have been here," he said. His voice was sad, but he couldn't help grinning down at the infant.

"It's alright. Anar did everything. She says he was probably just waiting for something exciting to happen."

"What do you want to call him?"

"I don't know. None of the names I had in mind seem right."

"Since we named Amal after me I thought we should choose a name from your family this time, but the only one that comes to me right now, is my father's name; Kolopak."

Kathryn pushed down the blanket that half hid her son's face and contemplated him for a moment.

"Kolo," she said affectionately. "Yes, I think that fits." She snuggled down next to her husband and almost immediately fell asleep. Chakotay shifted Kolopak to his other side and put his arm around Kathryn who unconsciously settled in deeper. Though she didn't wake, her hand instinctively searched the blanket until it came to rest on the baby safely cradled by his father. After that, she finally relaxed and sank into a deep sleep. The news of the Azhatti could wait until tomorrow.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tuvok mulled over the substance of his meeting with Krestic, Nellio, Blouxe and Samantha Wildman that had just adjourned. Whed was now six in human years and according to the Zahorans, old enough to start his familiarization time with the rank of Tiro. This meant he was to spend several hours of each day observing each station on the ship in turn. After three days of begging, Naomi and Whed had convinced Samantha to allow the little girl to participate too. In the end Tuvok allowed it.

The children would be supervised, of course, and would not be required to do any work. The idea was simply that by the time they were ready to be trained, words like nacelle and plasma injector would be as familiar to them as bed and desk. At this point they would work a minimal supervised duty schedule and have achieved the rank of Miles. They would also be expected to begin escape pod pilot training. Tuvok could not deny that in their dangerous situation this was a worthwhile endeavor.

Ensign Wildman had also insisted that Naomi have the equivalent of a classroom education in which Whed had wanted to be included. After a long five hours they were finally able to hash out a schedule that was acceptable to all parents but the exercise left Tuvok uneasy. It had brought to his attention that in a few years, they may have need of a full-fledged school; maybe even a smaller version of the academy if they did not find a faster way home.

Tuvok put down the schedule and leaned back in his chair. At least what they accomplished today was a beginning, though it had left him with a headache. Everything seemed to leave him with a headache these days. He steepled his index fingers, closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to clear his mind. He wouldn't take up the Doctor's time with this just yet. Tuvok breathed deeply once more then went on to the next report.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"So what do you think?" asked Kathryn as she and Chakotay walked to the council meeting. It had only been a few days since Kolopak was born and Kathryn was still a little tired but from all that Chakotay had told her about the Azhatti, she knew they had to settle borders with them and soon. Anar was watching the children and Kathryn felt half naked without Kolopak in her arms or Amal clinging to her thigh. It made her tense.

"The Azhatti are heavily armed," answered Chakotay, "but if they were going to take what they wanted from us by force they'd have done it by now. I think they'd rather con it out of us incase they're stuck here for a while."

"Hmm, and you believe they were lying about being able to handle the virus?"

"Maybe. What they want might have to do with that."

"The why couldn't they simply ask for our help?" asked Kathryn.

"They might not trust us," offered Chakotay.

"True," she mused. "The fact that they've got such advanced weaponry bothers me. Just because they don't seem to want to blow us up doesn't mean they can't or won't."

"I'm still against letting them know who _we_ are or what kind of weapons we can produce," he said. "I'm worried they might see that as a threat and use it as an excuse to go on the offensive."

"And there's still the Prime Directive," put in Kathryn.

"Yes. There's that."

"So we're sticking to diplomacy for now. What do we know about Durah'kett?"

"He's a salesman if nothing else," replied Chakotay. "He's slick, but Fidlemere wasn't buying it."

"That's good. I think he was a negotiator where he came from. Gerrol usually sides with him so we have the majority if Durah'kett can win over Regult and Oropun."

"It worries me sometimes how quickly those two will trust someone."

"In this situation," said Kathryn, "me too, but they're good men, Chakotay, I wouldn't want to change them."

"One advantage we may have, Durah'kett seemed to think very little of the fact that we have a woman on the council."

"Oh really?"

"That means he underestimates you."

"That could definitely be an advantage," she replied as she quickened her pace up the path to town.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"What's on your mind?" asked B'Elanna as she ate next to Tom in the mess hall. Her husband had allowed Neelix to pile extra large helpings of everything onto his plate but he hadn't eaten a bite of them. Their nine month old daughter, Miral, sat on B'Elanna's lap, gurgling ta-ta-ta-ta and reaching for Tom's tricorder. B'Elanna absently handed it to her and she happily sucked on a corner.

"Lots of stuff," Tom muttered pushing his food around. "Don't you ever worry, now that we have a daughter, what will happen to her if we really do take sixty more years to get home? Think about it. _She'll be sixty by the time we get home._"

"I know," replied B'Elanna, looking down at Miral. "I've done everything I can with the engine but our current technology just isn't designed to go past warp 9.9."

"Not without catastrophic consequences," added Tom darkly, thinking about the time he'd broken the warp threshold with a shuttle. The two were quiet until Harry came up to their table, who at the moment seemed to be chaos walking. Under one arm, he had two year old Hos by the waist who hung upside down giggling wildly and kicking his feet. With one hand the little boy had succeeded in untucking Harry's shirt and was yanking on it seemingly for fun. Under the other arm, Harry somehow clung to a mass of padds that threatened to cascade to the floor at any minute and his hair was nearly on end. To say that the chief of security looked frazzled was an understatement.

"Here," said Harry, handing Hos to Tom and dumping the padds on the table.

"Is that any way to carry your kid?" asked B'Elanna.

"I try to hold onto him," said Harry, arranging the padds, "but he always squirms back that way. I quit fighting it a month ago. Don't let him have that."

Tom and B'Elanna looked down to see Hos wrestling the tricorder out of Miral's tiny hands as she howled in protest. Hos' ears twitched as he punched buttons and the baby angrily pounded her fists. Hos giggled again and the lights in the mess hall flickered up and down until Harry got hold of the instrument and returned it to Miral.

"Did _he_ do that?" asked B'Elanna.

"He doesn't get what he's doing," answered Harry, distractedly going back to the padds. "It's that Tom's his Zhab and he _knows_ Tom and that's Tom's tricorder and something to do with the Illito... I don't know. Helia's tried to explain it to me a ton of times. Here it is!" He pulled a padd triumphantly out of the pile.

"What is it?" asked Tom.

"A short cut," replied Harry.

"A short cut?" came another voice from the table next to them. They turned to see Ayala there, staring back eagerly. "Mind if I join in? I didn't mean to eavesdrop," he added quickly. "I just overheard you talking about what it's going to be like for our kids... and you know I've got Salvatore to worry about and another one on the way."

"C'mon," said Tom. Everyone at the table shifted to give Ayala room.

"The shortcut is here," said Harry laying the padd in the middle of the table. He brought up a map of space with areas shaded off in different colors. "It looks as though the original territorial map the Zahorans gave us has changed. Over this way used to all be Borg, which is why we're taking a wide berth here but that's all gone now." He pushed a few buttons and the territories morphed into new colors. The blue area that had represented Borg space was gone and a much smaller sector of red representing the area patrolled by 8472 was now present. A narrow strip cut through the red area. Harry pointed to it. "From what Helia can tell from the local subspace transmissions, this strip is controlled by the Hat'tin system. They're traders and isolationists but don't mind other people flying through so long as they're left alone. This green sector over here where it comes out, is Amalgam space. The Amalgam seems to be similar to the Federation and they've kept things pretty peaceful in spite of the battle between 8472 and the Borg."

"Did Helia actually talk to anyone about this?" asked B'Elanna.

"No," answered Harry. "She pieced it together out of what she could pick up."

"So we're basing this on information we got while _eavesdropping_?" said B'Elanna incredulously.

"It works sometimes," put in Ayala with a snicker.

"B'Elanna's got a point, Harry," added Tom.

"I trust Helia's judgment," said Harry, "and I heard some of the transmissions myself. I think this passage could take a few years off our trip to Zahora Prime at least."

"Any time off our journey is good to me," said Ayala.

"It's a risk," said B'Elanna. "I don't think Tuvok would go for it."

"That's why Tom will have to be the one to bring it up," said Ayala."

"Me!" exclaimed Tom. "Why me?"

"Because Tuvok trusts you now. He listens to you and you have his pointy ear the most."

"I don't know." Tom was still doubtful. "What does the rest of the crew think of this?"

"I'm for it, of course," said Harry. "Captain Janeway wanted us to get home and frankly I'm tired of drifting around out here. I think we can assume now that no way is really safe so why waste any more time."

"It goes back to what you two were discussing earlier," added Ayala. "We need to get our kids back to Earth before they've grown up and this is the only home they've ever known. We've got to start taking more aggressive short cuts. Besides, if we all keep having kids, we're eventually going to run out of room."

"You're right," said Tom finally, giving in. "But I'd rather bring it up in staff meeting. That way the idea is out and Tuvok can't sweep it under the rug. Plus he'll see I have support."

B'Elanna wanted to point out she wasn't so sure he had as much of the crew behind the idea as Ayala seemed to believe but she saw the men at the table had all latched onto the idea. She wasn't about to change their minds right now. She figured she'd wait and see how things panned out with Tuvok. She was about to open her mouth to change the subject when they were all distracted by yells in the mess hall. Hos had gotten hold of the tricorder again and laughed hysterically as green jell-o flew out of the replicator and nailed and ensign in the face.

"Ya know, green jell-o is about the color of Gentu," remarked Harry. Everyone turned to him questioningly. "The Zahoran silk for mirth," he explained.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

The senior staff sat around the table in the briefing room. The usual updates were finished and Tuvok was about to dismiss them when Ayala and Tom exchanged a meaningful look and Ayala nodded encouragingly.

"I have something I'd like to discuss," said Tom. Tuvok paused and leaned back in his chair again. Tom went on. "There's been some talk amongst the crew about how our situation on Voyager has changed significantly since we were first pulled into the Delta Quadrant. "

"This ship was only designed to hold 200," said Ayala. "Even with the senior staff moving into the VIP quarters, space is limited. Everyone has a family now or will soon and we're on pace to have doubled our numbers in just a few years. I know a lot of couples that want children and who's to tell them they can't have them? Once these kids grow up, we're going to run out of room, quick."

"Plus," added Tom, "if we don't make it back before then, where's the incentive to make it back at all? In 60 years, our kids may very well be grandparents. Why would anyone want to go through hell and high water to get to a planet they've never seen in their lives just because a dead and gone relative thought they should?"

"You make valid points," said Tuvok, with his usual unreadable Vulcan blank. "What are you suggesting?"

"That we consider taking a more direct route," said Tom. "We haven't seen a cube or a bioship for awhile now. For the sake of our kids, I think it's time to start taking some risks."

B'Elanna looked at Tuvok who still remained quiet. She knew what Tom had been planning to bring up but she had no clue how their captain would take it. She also knew it was only about half the crew that felt this way and she wondered if Tuvok guessed that too.

"I will call you to my ready room this evening when I have time," replied Tuvok finally. "We shall discuss your plan in detail, then I will give you my decision. Dismissed."

Tom nodded as the senior staff got up to leave. B'Elanna thought Tom looked relieved. She hoped he wasn't counting on Tuvok going along. Even though the Captain had agreed to meet with him didn't mean he liked the idea. B'Elanna mentally crossed her fingers Tom wouldn't take a rejection too hard.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

In the council meeting, Janeway saw immediately what Chakotay had been talking about and was regretting saving her one cup of coffee until after lunch. She stared at Durah'kett with distaste. The man had rubbed her the wrong way from the second she'd caught him eyeing her chest and smirking when she walked in the room. He'd ignored her initial input at first and now had Gerrol engaged in a rambling conversation about his crew's exploits on a planet called Traloric III, the Delta Quadrant's apparent equivalent to Risa.

He wanted to ignore her? Fine. She'd use this time like a poker player; sit back and lose the first few rounds to learn her adversary's tells. Durah'kett was a masterful interlocutor. His seemingly pointless but highly entertaining anecdotes about the Azhatti's journey through the sector seemed to tell the tale of some poor tired traders who were lucky to find a place to settle down. He was playing the sympathy card and from the looks of things, Regult was eating it up. Fidlemere was sitting back in his chair with a snarl on his face but Gerrol seemed to be taking a genuine liking to the man. A few things still bothered her however. From his stories, the Azhatti most likely passed through much of the same space as Voyager. How had they avoided conflict with the Kazon and the Vidiians? No matter how gregarious he was, their leader was not laying all his cards on the table. Also, why was Durah'kett the only representative to the meeting? Either the Azhatti were more unified on their own wants than most groups or the outcome of this meeting meant very little to them. Janeway found herself wondering what the other Azhatti might be doing while their leader kept the neighbor's council so well distracted. This conference had gone on long enough. She shot Chakotay a look. He nodded. Obviously he thought so too. Janeway leaned forward in her chair, never mind the rudeness.

"Gentlemen," she interrupted Durah'kett midstream. "I'm sorry, but I get more focused conversation out of my two year old."

Durah'kett was only startled for a moment. Quickly he put on what he must have assumed was his most winning smile and turned toward Janeway.

"My dear," he said in a sugary voice, condescendingly patting her on the hand. "You simply don't grasp the intricacies of decision making. There is a certain give and take…"

Chakotay couldn't help smirk to himself as Janeway actually got to her feet and leaned forward on her white knuckles, though he imagined it was the daggers shooting out of her eyes that had made the Azhatti leader stop midsentence. He looked around at the other council members who all leaned back in their chairs more than a little stunned at their first experience with the Janeway death stare.

"Intricacies of decision making!" she blurted out. "I'll tell you what I know about decision making; that there's not a damn bit of it going on right now. I was told we were here to discuss where you'd like to settle. As this is a large planet with abundant resources, that should not be a hard decision. Lay out the map and start talking about it. I intend to be home by lunch time."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"Who is that?" asked Blouxe as she bustled into the Doctor's office. "She looks rather scrawny."

The Doctor turned off the miniature holographic version of Janeway that had been hovering over his desk. On slow days he often marinated on the virus that had kept her and Chakotay imprisoned on the planet.

"Our former captain," he answered. "I saved a copy of her transporter pattern so I could continue to study the illness that caused us to leave them behind."

"Ah, the mysterious incurable virus," remarked Blouxe. "Some of the crew have told me about that. Is this your research here?" she asked pointing to a padd on the desk. The Doctor nodded. "May I?"

"Of course."

"Well, it appears as if you killed the initial virus straight off," she said paging through the data.

"Precisely," said the Doctor, "but once off the surface, there seemed to be a toxin that remained in their blood stream. We were never able to discover what it was about the planet that made it inert."

"I see," she replied, humming to herself. "Based on the chemical makeup of this toxin, their bodies should have been able to flush it out of their systems on their own."

"Yes, but some of it remained."

"I'm not entirely sure it did," said Blouxe. "My question, Doctor, if I were studying this illness would be where this constant supply of toxin is coming from. Oh well. I suppose we'll never know," she shrugged moving on. "There hasn't been a patient for a bit now and I've gotten all our latest research catalogued. Would you mind terribly if I popped down to engineering. I'd like to peek in on Whed. It's only his third day of his familiarization time and I'd like to see how he's getting on."

"Go right ahead," replied the EMH, but he'd barely heard what she'd said in the end. Why hadn't he thought of it before? After Blouxe left, he quickly pulled up a full size holo-image of Captain Janeway.

"Computer, isolate and enlarge sector 5.34.19." The computer magnified and enhanced a section of Janeway's neck. The Doctor reexamined the raised red ring he must have seen thousands of times. After a moment he hit a few buttons on the console and the Borg-eye B'Elanna had created for him emerged on his face.

"Computer, lights." The sickbay dimmed and the EMH took yet another look at the familiar bug bite. "Ah ha!"

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Durah'kett had insisted on leading the scouting party himself. The bloody humans had driven him to this. Especially that little one. Even after her insistence that they get things done quickly, the boarder debates had gone on for months. No matter how he tried to move the boarders, if it involved moving someone's home or business she had remained staunch. Well, he'd wasted a lot of her time at least. Never again would he underestimate a woman. Maybe they'd seen through his usually smooth negotiation skills but that didn't mean that the Azhatti were going to sit and rot on this planet. What they couldn't get with words he would get with stealth.

Durah'kett suddenly held up a hand to stop his party. He heard noises up ahead near the border. Slowly the Azhatti captain crept up to see what was going on. Blast. It was that big human. He was instructing the Trecta where to put up a detection grid. Maybe the Trecta were too foolish to see it but these two, well they weren't what they'd pretended to be. The Azhatti had scanned the Trecta thoroughly when they'd first crashed and they knew they were almost defenseless as far as arms went but these two humans... they might have friends.

Druah'kett went back to the scout team and signaled for them to turn around, mulling over his options. He knew some Azhatti crews were not above killing civilians. It happened all the time but Durah hadn't crossed that line yet. Maybe one day, but not yet. They would wait for Rid'hirick. He was a ruthless pirate. It might only take him a few more months to steal what was needed. The last message they'd had from him said he was very close. He hoped bitterly that Tic'tau hadn't drunk all the Obadian rum. He hated the Obadianese and their Amalgam accords that made his life so difficult. Most of all he hated the bloody toad-man Tadporian but damned if his people didn't make good booze. He knew he would have need of it when he returned to camp.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tom sat next to Tuvok on the bridge. Their last conversation in the ready room had been fairly ambiguous which Tom thought unusual for the Vulcan. They'd discussed the shortcut along with the mood of the crew and though Tuvok had seemed hesitant about the idea, he had not said no either. Tom was itching to bring up the new course again. They were only half a day from where they would need to change headings but he was having trouble breaking the ice. The Vulcan was being quieter than usual.

Tom finally decided to speak. If he didn't now, the silence would be too thick to breach, but when he turned to Tuvok the words froze on his lips. As Tuvok was tapping away at his console, still attempting to work, his brow was furrowed deeper than Tom had ever seen it.

"You alright, Captain?" asked the first officer.

"I am well," insisted Tuvok, though the shakiness of his voice suggested otherwise. "I am simply…" The sentence trailed off to nothing as his eyes suddenly grew wide and Tuvok slid out of his Captain's chair and onto the floor.

"Paris to sick bay!" said Tom as he knelt down next to his commanding officer. "Emergency transport."


	13. Chapter 13

"Well now I know why you've been avoiding your follow up exam," said the Doctor to the Captain after the Tom had returned to the bridge from sick bay. "I'm assuming you've known about your neural peptide degradation for some time now?"

"Yes. I had gone without incident, however," replied Tuvok as he lay back on the bio-bed. The Doctor had quickly stabilized his attack but his head still hurt and his words came out haltingly. "I had hoped the case was mild."

"It most certainly isn't," said the EMH, "but I think I've also discovered why you have been able to maintain healthy brain function for so long as well as the answer to another mystery or two. Look over here," he said, changing the viewer to another point in Tuvok's brain wave patterns. "This pattern here is not part of your original brain function matrix but it is fully integrated and operates as if it were."

"Curious," replied Tuvok. "What type of waves are they?"

"Zahoran," answered the Doctor. "These patterns, however, have been actively trying to combat the effects of the degradation, which is likely why you've had so few symptoms. But that isn't all. Since the Zahorans have been more forthcoming about their telepathy, they've also been more willing to allow me to study their physiology and neurochemistry. Your particular mash-up of brain function is not the first one I've seen." He brought up another image. "Here the makeup is opposite of yours: mostly Zahoran but there is the one strain that is unmistakably Vulcan."

"To whom does this scan belong?"

"It's Whed's," replied the EMH. "Now that I've been able to study Zahoran brain patterns more thoroughly, I am certain that you are his Zhab and from what I can tell by your current brain function, you have been since the moment he came on board."

Tuvok nodded thoughtfully. "Is there any danger to Whed from my condition?"

"He does show some signs, but the Zahoran brain is able to isolate the failing neural peptides and repair them before there is any permanent damage. Their neural structure seems to be even more resilient than a Vulcan's."

"Still," said Tuvok. "We must inform his parents immediately."

"Agreed." The Doctor called Whed's parents down to sick bay.

Nellio and Blouxe were very quiet after the Doctor and Tuvok had explained the situation to them. Blouxe's ears twitched almost angrily. Even though the Doctor had worked with the Zahorans for years now and considered them valuable colleagues and friends, this particular movement of the lobes still made him nervous.

"I don't approve," she snapped finally.

"We knew something like this might happen," said Nellio quietly, laying a hand on her shoulder. "He hadn't chosen anyone of our old crew and it is the right of the Zhabine for him to choose whoever he wishes. We need to trust in the Illito. Children never choose their Zhab wrongly."

"Children have far too many autonomous rights before they have twenty-one secras, if you ask me," spat Blouxe.

"You'll remember, we have very little say in those rights," said Nellio. "The children's behavior is a part of their genetic makeup and designed to protect the little one from unfit parents."

"But we are not unfit!"

"No, _we_ are not, but if one Zahoran ignores the laws of nature, even for the right reasons, it makes it that much easier for others to ignore them for the wrong ones. We must respect the Illito and the right of the Zhabine."

Blouxe was silent but by no means pacified. Instead she turned her wrath towards the Doctor. "Is this why my little boy has been so quiet all this time? Is this why he has so little emotion?"

"He has emotion," replied the Doctor patiently. "He simply doesn't show it. From what I can tell, the brain chemistry involved in the Zahoran Villinari and Vulcan emotional suppression is nearly identical. That is why I believe Whed latched onto it so quickly. The only difference between the two seems to be that Zahorans are trying to hide their emotions from other telepaths. Vulcans hide their emotions from themselves. Whed could express his feelings if he wished. That is clear when he plays with Naomi. To do so full time, however, he will need to be a little older, so that he can understand exactly what he's doing when suppresses them."

"Still…" Blouxe went on. "You are sure the Captain's illness poses no threat to Whed?"

"Positive," answered the EMH, "but there is one thing I wish to discuss with the two of you. The only treatment for Vulcan neural peptide degradation is a mind meld from a relative. For all intents and purposes, neurologically, Whed is Tuvok's son. He could help in Tuvok's rehabilitation."

"But he's only a child!" protested Blouxe.

"Tuvok could guide him," explained the Doctor, "and because of the fast regeneration rate of the Zahoran brain…"

"No," said Blouxe firmly. "I might not be able to stop Whed from choosing a nonZahoran Zhab but this is too much. I cannot allow it."

"Blouxe," protested the Doctor. "This may be the Captain's only chance to avoid irreparable mental deterioration! The risk is minimal and…"

"You heard me Doctor!" said Blouxe, her ears fanning and vibrating in tune to her irritation.

"But…"

"No." This time it was Tuvok who put his foot down. "I will accept no remedy from Whed that puts the child in harm's way or goes against his parents' wishes. Perhaps, Doctor, the Zahorans would be willing to share their extensive information on their own internal neural repair processes so that you might be able to synthesize an alternate treatment from that." Tuvok looked questioningly at Blouxe, who nodded eyeing Tuvok in her turn. Her lobes slowly relaxed back to their resting state. The Vulcan went on. "Then we are agreed. For now, Doctor, I think it best I be relieved of duty and place myself in your care. Please inform the crew that Mr. Paris is now acting-captain."

"Very well," said the Doctor, grateful the Vulcan logic had won on that score. He had not looked forward to that argument but then again, he was surprised at himself that he thought it would occur. Tuvok, he reminded himself, was not as stubborn as Janeway.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

At first, Tom had been nervous about taking the shortcut without Tuvok's express orders but the longer Voyager traveled thought the passage without incident, the more confident he got. When Lorrit had discovered the faint ion trails of cloaked ships off to either side of them (they're avoiding us like the Ribbidian boils, sir,) the acting captain even began to relax a little. As it turned out, due to the number of Borg parts Voyager had inherited during repairs, it was now emitting a slight Borgish signature. _If it's enough to keep unfriendly ships away,_ thought Tom, _so be it._ It wasn't until the day before they were to exit the passage that he was rudely reminded of something one of his Starfleet professors had said: Never get too comfortable in space. The second you let your guard down is when you get bit in the ass. …or had it been Boothby who said it?

"Ship decloaking right in front of us," announced Lorrit from opps all of a sudden.

"All stop! Shields," ordered Tom. "Scan them."

"Large warship of some kind," said Harry from tactical. "He's definitely out gunned though."

"We're being hailed," said Lorrit.

"On screen."

When the viewer popped up, they were greeted with a grey dual cranial-crested alien yelling irately at his crew.

"They're not Borg, you fools! Since when were Borg ridiculous looking pink men?" The alien didn't even give Tom a chance to talk when he turned to him and continued his tirade. "This is Captain Rid'hirick of the Azhatti cruiser Enclopius. I demand to know what you are doing in Freebooter's Alley!"

"Freebooter's Alley?" asked Tom turning to Harry. The tactical officer merely opened and closed his mouth looking flabbergasted. They had certainly not picked that up out of their transmissions screens. Tom turned back to Rid'hirick. "Look, I understand you want us out of here. The exit is only half a day at our best speed. How about you let us by and we'll be out of your way in no time."

"Allow you to pass?" bellowed Rid'hirick. "And let you run to the bloody toad-man with precise coordinates of our alley? Arm disruptor cannons!" he yelled at his crew, bits of spittle flying all over his monitor. He whirled back at Tom. "Never! You will never get…"

"End transmission," said Tom, getting the general drift. No talking his way out of this one. "Ayala, evasive maneuvers. Keep it light and quick. I doubt that crate handles very well."

Ayala pulled Voyager starboard and deftly steered around the Enclopius before they could get a weapons lock.

"They're pursuing," said Lorrit.

"Full power to aft shie…" Voyager bucked forward as it was nailed from behind with a blast from a disruptor cannon.

"Does he really want to do this?" muttered Tom. "Ayala, come around. Attack pattern alpha. Charge phaser banks. Warning shot across the bow." Voyager fired, skimming Enclopius' hull.

"Their shields are down to fifty-three percent," informed Lorrit.

"From a warning shot?" asked Tom incredulously. "Their ship must be in bad shape. Hail them."

"Not responding," replied Lorrit. "Their firing on us again."

"All power forward shields," replied Tom as the ship rocked again. "Arm a photon torpedo. Target their weapons array."

"Direct hit," said Harry. The crew watched on the viewer as the torpedo found its target. Much to the surprise of the bridge crew, however, the Azhatti cruiser blew into a million pieces.

"What happened?" asked Tom, dumbfounded. "I only wanted to disable them! Lorrit. Scan the area. I want to make sure this isn't some kind of trick."

"They're gone, Captain," he replied. Lorrit punched a few buttons to bring up the results of his earlier scans. "The logs are showing the ship was carrying a pretty large mass of an unstable ore in its cargo bay," he reported. "The ore was creating a subtle magnetic field that was interfering with their shields and wreaking havoc with their propulsion systems. The ship might have gone if you twitched your ears at it funny."

"We should have just kept going," muttered Tom. "He never would have caught us."

"They were firing on us," reasoned Harry. "And that thing looked like a tank. We were defending ourselves."

Tom took a deep breath but said nothing more about it. "Ayala, back on original heading. Maximum warp."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Harry smiled wide when he saw his wife and son walk into the mess hall to join him for lunch. Along with them came Whed.

"I hope you don't mind," said Helia, nodding toward Whed, after she'd kissed Harry and got Hos situated in a booster. "Blouxe asked me to watch him today. Samantha's on duty."

"Not at all," replied Harry. Whed was never any trouble and he usually kept Hos entertained. "How do you like engineering so far," he asked the little boy.

"It's ok. I like sick bay better," he answered with a flick of his ears. Hos, with a squeal, soon demanded Whed's attention and the two were absorbed in the Zahoran ear game Whed's parents had taught him when he was little. "Happy," said Whed and they both fanned their lobes appropriately while Hos giggled. "Angry," he said next and the two year old let out a tiny growl while his ears came forward and vibrated menacingly. And so the game went on as Harry and Helia escaped to an adult conversation.

"You look tired," remarked Helia as she started in on the plate Harry had waiting for her.

"There's been a lot of work to cover since Tuvok's been ill," he replied. "Tom got a day off for me tomorrow though."

"I'm off tomorrow too," she smiled. "I guess it's good to have your best friend doing the duty rosters."

"He knows I need it. I…"

The two were distracted by angry voices coming from the other side of the mess hall. Most of the crew had gotten quiet to listen to Carey and Hogan debating the incident in Freebooter's Alley.

"The _acting_-captain can't just go around shooting everything in his path," said Carey heatedly. "We can't afford to make enemies out here."

"Well we can't just sit around and be a target either," retorted Hogan.

Harry sighed and went back to his meal.

"There's a lot of that kind of gossip going around," said Helia. "No one seems to have any real understanding of what actually happened with the Azhatti ship."

"It's like telephone," said Harry.

"What?"

"It's an old Earth game for kids. All the children line up and the first kid whispers something to the second kid who passes it on to the next and so on down the line. The whole point of the game is to laugh about how much the story changed by the time you got to the last person. It's supposed to be a lesson on how rumors are rarely accurate."

"But now it isn't funny."

"No."

"Why doesn't the senior staff try to put a stop to it," Helia suggested.

"That never works," replied Harry. "When you try to squash gossip, the whispers go on but just get quieter. Besides, the talk is only a symptom, not the problem."

"I think I understand, but the senior staff is going to have to deal with the underlying issues sooner or later."

"You're right," he conceded, sullenly pushing his food around on his plate. "I guess we'll go through that wormhole when we come to it." The two looked up again. The argument between Carey and Hogan had gotten louder and angrier.

"If Voyager wants to make it through this quadrant," said Hogan vehemently, "we need to be respected, maybe even feared a little."

"Oh really?" said Carey, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Is that how the Maquis did it?"

"I resent that," spat Hogan. "We were fighting for our homes. If Starfleet wouldn't have given them away in the first place…"

"Terrorist," muttered Carey.

"Take that back!" yelled Hogan getting to his feet and knocking his chair to the floor.

"You don't have to kill innocent people to earn respect," went on Carey calmly. "That's how the Cardies do it."

Hogan' cheeks turned a deep shade of purple as he punched Carey in the face and flew over the table to continue the attack. Carey went backwards in his chair and the entire mess hall erupted to break up the fight. After a few heated minutes of shoving and grappling the two men were separated and Harry ordered them confined to quarters for the present. He was going to finish his lunch with his family before dealing with them. The rest of the crew had the mess hall cleaned up in no time.

"Everyone alright?" he asked as he sat back down. Helia nodded. The children seemed unperturbed by the chaos. Hos had used the distraction to toss his hated broccoli and carrots on to the floor. The ever stoic Whed had simply watched, ears twitching, though he was especially quiet when he went back to his lunch.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Kathryn was sitting at Anar's kitchen table with a hot cup of coffee. She had to admit, the synthesizer could make a pretty good cup when programmed right. Kolopak sat gurgling as Anar bounced him on her knee.

"Did I tell you," said Kathryn. "Oropun asked me to teach at the school he's starting. He said during the debates he was impressed with my 'ability to keep a room together.' I will say rowdy children will be a vacation after that nonsense with Durah'kett."

"I'd bet the pirates are easier," laughed Anar. "It's different when the kids ain't yours."

"Maybe, but I would be teaching the older children. Quantum mechanics, some higher math."

"That's good," Anar nodded approvingly. "Brain like yours needs some exercise once in a while. What do you think's gonna happen now that you're done negotiatin with them Azhatti folk?" asked Anar.

"I'm still not sure," answered Kathryn. "They seem pacified for now and they haven't encroached on the boarders for over a month. I don't see any evidence of them taking up arms against us either. Maybe they've finally settled in, but I still don't understand why they needed our land so badly."

"Who can tell?" grumbled the old lady. "I just can't abide those Azhatti. Somethin in their cranial crests. From my experience, you can't trust an alien whose head looks like your backside."

"Anar," the younger woman chuckled, "If we could tell who our enemies were simply by how they looked we could round them all up at the start, throw them in the brig, and never fight another war, but it isn't that easy."

"Eh, well... these though..." Anar was distracted by Kolopak escaping across the table to reach for his mother's coffee. "Hey there little man. If you're anything like my girl here you'll be drinking plenty of that soon enough."

"Since he's been crawling, he's been into everything. He does look a lot like me though. He's dark like his papa but the more he grows, the more of my features I see in him.

"He favors you, to be sure," said Anar. "I was noticing his eyes today."

"What about them?"

"I think they're going to stay blue."

"That's unlikely. Chakotay's eyes are like charcoal."

"I know, but look at em. They're a lot lighter than they used to be."

Kathryn took a close look. It was true. Instead of darkening the way Amal's had at that age, Kolopak's eyes were changing to a shade close to her own.

"He's gonna be smart too," Anar went on. "Some babies just wobble on your knee and drool and laugh like maniacs at whatever they find in their nose. Kolo though... When he looks at things you can tell he's trying to figure out how they work."

Kathryn sighed to herself. She knew exactly what Anar meant and hoped that if this little baby did grow up to be the brilliant man Anar predicted he'd be, he'd find enough to keep himself occupied on this tiny little planet.

"Thank you for the coffee," she said, standing. "I'd better be getting back to Chakotay. He hates it when I'm late for supper."

"That's right. You get on home to your husband," Anar replied, kissing both Kolo's fat cheeks before handing him back to his mother. "Men can't even get their pants on straight without their women around. And," she added, "Don't neither of you go turning your back on those Azhatti just yet. I say you should have shot the sons of bitches when you had the chance but that's just an old lady's opinion."

Kathryn said her goodnights to Anar but was still laughing as she made her way down the path to home.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tuvok woke up slowly. The bio-bed he had been laying on since his collapse on the bridge did not make for peaceful rest. Still, he had to remain in sick-bay until the Doctor could at least slow down his peptide degradation. He had yet to make any progress. As Tuvok eased into waking consciousness he became aware of someone's presence close at hand. When he finally opened his eyes, he found Whed kneeling on the bio-bed, staring down at him, and chewing on his usual thumb.

"You should stop sucking your thumb," said Tuvok to the little Zahoran. Whed flexed his ears. "It may cause your teeth to skew when they grow in. Do your parents know you are here?"

_No,_ Whed thought back, leaving his thumb where it was. _I think people on the ship need you. They fight all the time. I tried to show you._

Tuvok had indeed had dreams of the crew arguing. He had found them disturbing, especially now, knowing them to be real as seen through Whed's eyes.

"I am afraid I must remain here," Tuvok answered aloud. "I am sick."

_I know. I want to help you. _

"I do not think your parents approve."

_ They can't stop me if I want to. You are my Zhab._ Whed's ears flexed forward again as he mentally transferred his instinctual understanding of the right of Zhabine. Tuvok saw there was no arguing with him on that count.

"I do not approve either," he replied finally.

_But I want to help you, _scowled the little Zahoran stubbornly. _You help me here all the time. _Whed placed a finger on Tuvok's heart. _Sometimes mama and papa don't let me go places or have what I want. Then I get angry. Really angry. I don't like it but then I find you and you help me feel better. _As Whed spoke to him through his telepathy, Tuvok found that he not only heard the words, but was aware of his emotions as well. The captain slowly began to understand that the child, from his bond to him, had not been emotionless this entire time but feeling the full spectrum of adult Vulcan emotions. He also could tell the Zahoran psyche was not designed to handle the violence of these emotions, especially one so young. Whed now needed Tuvok as much as Tuvok needed Whed.

_I know I can help you, _the little one continued. _I saw it here. _He placed a sticky finger on Tuvok's forehead. _You just need to show me what to do. You have to let me help. I'm afraid for you and I don't like being scared._

Tuvok contemplated the child for a long time. When he made his decision, it was more for Whed's sake than his own. "We must speak to your parents first," he said finally.

_Alright, but they can't say no. They were just pretending like they could before. _Tuvok could feel Whed's mood brighten though his face remained stoic as ever.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"You wanted to see me Doc?" asked Harry as he walked into sick bay.

"Yes, Mr. Kim," replied the EMH, punching a few buttons on his console. "Something I wanted to show you."

Harry jumped back as a holographic bug, the size of two human heads, sprang into existence above the computer. It was translucent white with a short trunk-like snout and hooks for grasping all over its six legs.

"What is it?" asked Harry disgustedly.

"The bug that infected Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay, magnified about a million times or so," answered the Doctor. "And it didn't eat and run, so to speak."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a parasite; so tiny it's nearly invisible to the humanoid eye."

"So they brought it back to the ship with them?"

"Precisely," said the Doctor. "The problem lies in the organism's physiology, which evolved in the highly polarized environment of the planet where we left them. When we removed the bug from its natural habitat it was able to survive but being outside of the planet's magnetic field forced its metabolism to change how it processed several key amino acids. The resulting waste products became poisonous to its host and the constant depositing of these toxins into Janeway and Chakotay's bloodstream is what kept them ill."

"So what are you saying?" asked Harry confusedly.

"Now that I've realized I'm fighting a parasite rather than a virus, coming up with the serum to kill it became a relatively simple matter."

"You've found a cure?"

"I have," replied the EMH proudly. "It also acts as a vaccine. The serum only needs to be taken once. After that, the body can kill the parasite on its own."

"That's fantastic, Doc!" exclaimed Harry, "but why are you telling me all this?"

"You should be the one to talk to Captain Tuvok about going back for them."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because Mr. Paris isn't exactly in his good graces since the 'Freebooter's Alley' incident and in case you don't recall, you nearly had him talked into contacting the Vidiians back when we first left the planet."

"That was Kes; not me."

"But you were a part of it," urged the Doctor. "And all Kes did was make Tuvok realize you were right. I think we both know how badly Voyager needs its former command team back. Humanoid memories may get hazy but mine is crystal clear. The sense of unity that was forming those first two years is gone. Plus it's no secret that Tuvok can no longer be the captain he needs to be. Even now that Whed is aiding with the treatments, Tuvok won't fully recover until he can meld with a biological family member."

"I know you're right," replied Harry. "…the fight in the mess hall…"

"And that wasn't the only one. I can't tell you how many black eyes and broken noses I've treated over the last week."

Harry thought hard. What's the worst that could happen? Tuvok could say no and they would keep going as they are or he could say yes…

"Alright," said Harry finally. "I'll try."


	14. Chapter 14

Tuvok always found a good deal of peace while working with his orchids. He'd been spending quite a bit of time with them lately. The concentration seemed to help with his recovery and he especially needed it after the fight between Mr. Paris and Mr. Ayala. He sat at the table in his living quarters tending his latest cross pollination experiment. Ennica had given him deep blue Zahoran orchids when he'd mentioned his interest in the flower, which he'd bred with white to make them heartier and grow better in Terran soil. The result had surprised him thoroughly. Rather than pale blue flower, as he'd expected, the petals remained white but with indigo bands running out from the center; some of them as wide as a finger, some of them narrow as a pinstripe. His mind was nearly clear but peace was not to be his this evening. His door chimed.

"Come." He was not surprised to see Lieutenant Kim enter his room. He regarded Harry for a moment and went back to pruning. Harry supposed he ought to wait until Tuvok was finished to begin speaking, but the Vulcan began first.

"Do you see this flower, Mr. Kim?"

"Of course," replied Harry. "I've never seen one quite like it. Did you breed it?"

"I did. It is a Zahoran blue cross pollinated with a Terran white. It was a very difficult combination. When using insects, the flowers would give seeds, but the seeds would not grow. I tried other artificial means but with even poorer results."

"How did you get it to work, finally?"

"By integrating the lavender orchid's pollen. The third flower does not assert itself in the offspring, but it provides the binding element needed to produce the specimen you see here. I find the flower both aesthetically satisfying and hearty. I have yet to discover the scientific reason that the third element is necessary for the cohesion of the other two but it is a fact that I cannot ignore whether I understand it or not." Tuvok looked up pointedly at Harry. "So you see, Mr. Kim. I agree with you."

"You agree with me?" spluttered Harry.

"You were coming to see me about returning for Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay."

"How did you know?"

"You may think I have forgotten the day shortly after we left our commanding officers, when you had very nearly convinced me to go to the Vidiians. You had a similar determined look on your face then. Also, you are not the only one who is aware of the opposing factions on Voyager and you should not surmise that I am ignoring them. While I do believe that Captain Janeway with Commander Chakotay behind her was indeed the lavender orchid that unified this crew, we cannot go back for our former command team."

"But I was talking to the Doctor today…"

"He has found a cure," interrupted Tuvok. "I am aware of that too."

"So then why can't we go?" burst out Harry. "The Maquis/Starfleet tension is going to explode any moment. We need Janeway back."

Tuvok sighed. "As I've said, Lieutenant, I agree with you but not everyone will wish to add another ten years to the journey in the wrong direction, including our Zahoran guests. Also, I do not believe Captain Janeway herself would approve of the added time either. I made a promise to her to get this crew home. I am still trying to fulfill that promise. We cannot even be sure that after all this time they are still where we left them. The Captain could have easily come up with a cure by now and the two of them have started new lives elsewhere.

Harry nodded sullenly. "Maybe Chakotay found the Sky Spirit People again."

"It is possible and Captain Janeway is most likely still exploring everything she can."

"She might have even found a slipstream ship and beat us home by now."

"I understand your concern for the tension amongst the crew," Tuvok went on. "I have some hope, however, now that we are moving farther into Amalgam policed space, that the rest of the trip to Zahora will be without conflict. Perhaps during that time of peace, we will find a way to settle the differences."

"Let's hope so," said Harry. He took one last lingering look at the blue banded orchid before leaving Tuvok's quarters.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

August 2380

Tic'tau couldn't help but be on edge as he walked silently with Durah'kett back to their ship. The council meeting with their neighbors hadn't gone well. The Azhatti had suggested a change in boarders again. The Trecta had almost been bullied into it but with those bloody humans encouraging them, they'd stood their ground. Durah'kett sighed when they got to the ship. The Azhatti crew had kept it in good working order at their Captain's direction, in hope that they would one day get off this hovel. Internally, the ship was probably in better condition than it had ever been but externally… It was overgrown and covered in tiny-men leavings. He knew better than to drive off the tiny-men, however. They were the only warning they had of the plasma storms. But still, they made a mockery of his once majestic vessel, able to strike fear in the hearts of all species in four sectors.

"Vines, rust, and monkey shit," muttered Durah'kett, shaking his head as he walked inside. Tic'tau followed. Eventually they came to Durah'kett's ready room and he motioned for Tic'tau to take a seat as he himself settled into his chair. They remained quiet for some time before the captain spoke.

"So what is our next move?" he asked.

"There are quite a few options," replied Tic'tau. "We could always stay; recycle the ship; start building."

"There are too few females to start a colony."

"It isn't too late to make friends with the Trecta. Some of their women are quite comely."

"I could do that. I could tear apart my ship bit by bit to build a home. I could take a Trecta wife and sit on my fat arse here for another 100 years."

"It would be a comfortable life, Durah. No more running from the Amalgam. No more narrow escapes from the Picinian tails. We have everything we need and we would have some peace."

"Peace. Yes. I would have that. And comfort. And a tedious miserable life where I die a little inside every time this abysmal rock finishes another lap around its wretched little sun. I can't do it. I want to feel the fire from the Hell Nebula again, Tic'tau. I want to taste the honey of a Lapharino woman's lips. And all those narrow escapes you so wish to avoid? That is when I feel the most alive. The crew feels the same way. They all want off this planet as badly as I do."

"We could simply tell the Trecta _why_ we want the land."

"And let them know what a fortune they're sitting on?"

"They're not like…"

"They're not like what? Us? Greedy? _Pirates?_"

"They might be willing to help us."

"Never. Helping us means giving up their homes. They'd never do it. And all men are like us. Some are too craven to admit what they are, but all only care about themselves. I had to learn that the hard way, but it's true, Tic."

"Rid'hirick may still come. You said yourself it may take years for him to steal as much of the alloy as we need."

"Have you heard from him lately?" asked Durah'kett.

"Well, no."

"That's unlike him. Even if he weren't going to help us, he'd never miss an opportunity to laugh in my face. He's always been careless and hot tempered. Either Tadporian got him or he's dead."

"So our options are few," frowned Tic'tau.

"They are." Durah'kett felt sour. He had been a pirate all his life as his father before him. He knew no other way to be. It was time to stop waiting for help that would never come. He did not relish what he was about to do but it was necessary and he'd done worse before.

"We're getting off the planet," he said finally. "Have the crew start cleaning the ship and prepping the hull for coating."

"Durah?"

"We start blasting tomorrow."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"Right here," said Chakotay, holding up his palms and waving the right one. Four-year-old Amal playfully punched his father's open hand. "Okay, keep your fists up, then give me a left. The other left."

"Isn't he a little young to start boxing?" asked Kathryn as she laid out the picnic blanket.

"Nah," said Chakotay, smiling. "The sooner he learns the basics, the easier it will be for him to pick up the finer points."

"And the sooner he'll be beating up his old man."

Chakotay looked up to retort but never got the chance because Amal had popped him in the jaw.

"Hey there mister," he said. "I think our next lesson is going to be on fair play." Chakotay scooped up Amal by the waist and fireman's carried the giggling kid through the field to the picnic his mother had laid out. Kathryn handed the boy a stalk of celery with peanut butter on it to munch on while they watched two-year-old Kolopak chasing a large moth-like creature through the tall grass. Chakotay noticed Kathryn's affectionate look as she saw her son tumble onto the ground after the insect and come up triumphant with it in one hand. He squatted down, watching its wings flap, fascinated.

Kathryn looked around her. The field where they like to picnic was a beautiful spot. The hills reached high to the east and the forest crept down their slopes and wound around them. The air was clear and when the clouds lifted, she thought she could almost see Anar's little cabin sitting high on a hill, near to where the snow started. Every now and then a breeze would come up from the south and Kathryn thought she could taste the tang of salt in it. When they children were older, they might find the ocean. This was really her home.

"You know, we probably only have a few more years left," she said, when she came out of her reverie.

"For what?"

"To have any more children."

"Do you want another one?"

"Moth!" said Kolopak, toddling over and presenting his prize to his mother.

"I wouldn't mind a little girl," she laughed, freeing her son's captive and distracting him with food so he wouldn't cry as the moth made its escape over the treetops.

"We can try," smiled Chakotay.

After lunch, Chakotay lay back on the blanket with an arm behind his head and Kathryn resting hers on his shoulder. Mercifully, the energetic Kolopak had worn himself out and was snoozing on his mother's chest. Amal was near the edge of the forest, trying to coax the monkey, who he insisted on calling Pete, out of the woods with some leftovers from the picnic. It was a pleasant day. Chakotay thought about what it would be like having another baby. If it were a girl, he had a feeling he'd spoil her rotten. He was about to tell Kathryn so when they were startled up by a large explosion coming from the direction of town. The blast had been deafening, even from that distance. Pete sprang off into the woods and Amal had run to his father in tears. Kolopak hadn't cried, but he still clung to his mother and stared around wide eyed. Chakotay and Janeway looked in the direction of town. A thick stream of black smoke rose above where it sat.

"Let's get the boys home," said Chakotay. Kathryn looked back at the billowing smoke.

"Home first," she replied, "but let's take them to Anar's. I have a feeling we ought to get to town." Chakotay nodded and together they packed up the things and left.

At the house, they spoke very little. Chakotay gathered a bag for the children and Kathryn went to their replicator. He paused when she handed him the phaser she'd replicated but took it without a word. He stuck it in his waistband and moved his jacket to hide it. She had one concealed as well.

Anar was pleased to see them. She'd felt the rumble from the explosion even in her little hut in the hills.

"Do you know what happened?" she asked in her shaky old lady voice. "Is it them damn aliens from across the way? I knew they'd be coming back one of these days."

Kathryn glanced at Chakotay. That's exactly what they were worried it was. Kathryn forced a smile.

"We're going to go find out, Anar. Do you mind watching the boys? It's probably just Oropun's experiments again."

"I'll watch em. And don't you worry," she pulled back her shawl, winking at Kathryn and revealing a Trecta side arm. "I won't let anyone near em. You just keep yours handy too. Heh heh!" She patted Chakotay on the hip where his phaser was. The old bird didn't miss a step.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Chairman Regult and the other council members sat around the table in the council chambers. Azhatti terrorists had blown up the grocers. The Trecta were beside themselves. Had they realized the Azhatti would have reacted so, they might have spent more time negotiating boundaries, but the humans had been against it. Regult knew that the deal the Azhatti offered wasn't fair and they were encroaching on the original treaty boundaries, but he was beginning to wonder if it was worth it. What if the Azhatti targeted the school next?

They had caught two of the terrorists after the bombing. They hadn't talked and were sitting in the one cell the Trecta kept that was usually only inhabited by citizens who chose to stay out drinking a little too late. Now there were actual criminals in the jail. It made Regult's stomach turn over and over. What made the chairman exceptionally anxious, however, was the weaponry on the table at the far end of the room. The council members all had looked at it carefully but couldn't make heads or tails of it. Weapons had been forbidden for a generation, on their home world and they'd only started relearning the craft when they boarded their ship a few years back.

"Shall we wait for Kathryn and Chakotay?" asked Oropun, breaking the silence in the room.

"They'll be here soon," said Regult. "I'm sure they have to see to their children first."

"I don't see how they'll be useful," said Fidlimere. "All they ever want to talk about is making peace."

"It's a worthy cause," said Oropun. "We know as well as any what can happen in war."

"Agreed," said Gerrol, "but we also know what happens when we stand by and do nothing. We coexisted with the old enemy for over twenty years and still lost our home world. I'm not ready to do that again."

"Still," said Regult. "They are valuable members of this council, even if their ways seem simple to us. They've had useful input and had it not been for their help, we might not have survived the plasma storms the first year here."

"But what will we do if they don't want to fight?" said Fidlimere.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," said the Chairman.

"They only make up a third of the council, anyway," said Gerrol. "They can be out voted."

The door opened and Kathryn and Chakotay came in.

"Is it true what we heard in the streets?" asked Kathryn.

"That the grocer was bombed?" said Regult. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Anyone hurt?" asked Chakotay.

"A few passers-by were injured, but no one killed," said Oropun. "We think they were trying to send us a message: that they can hit us where it counts."

"We captured two of them," said Gerrol. "Their weapons are over on the table if you'd care to have a look and tell us what you think." Kathryn heard the smirk in his voice. Well, she'd always known there would be a time to put the man in his place. She had a feeling it would probably be soon. Kathryn simply nodded at him and walked over to the table with Chakotay behind her. They stopped short on either side. Janeway looked at Chakotay as she slowly slipped off her combadge and dropped it into her pocket. He eyed the table to see that the council wasn't watching and did the same.

"Good God," she whispered, when she was sure the Trecta could only hear English. "They don't have the safeties on. They could have killed everyone."

"Go slow," said Chakotay. "If you hold this end up here on each one, I think I can disable them."

Gerrol peeked back at the couple gingerly handling the weapons and snickered to himself again.

"You know," he whispered, as he nudged Fidlemere. "I think I saw Chakotay in the woods with a bow and arrows once." He turned back to the debate which was now growing louder. Janeway and Chakotay were thankful the council was distracted with their argument.

"Whew," she said, once they were sure the rifles were safe. "Well, what do you make of them?"

"We'll have to strip them down to get a good look," he replied.

"I might be a bit rusty," she said with a smug smile, "but I seem to remember acing my alien weaponry class at the academy. Disassembly was my favorite part."

"I taught that class," Chakotay grinned. "Which rifle do you want? Plasma or sniper? Sniper is harder."

"Give it here," she said, taking the gun from him. Pleasant banter now over, they got to work, methodically taking each weapon apart and examining it piece by piece. When they were finished they reassembled them just as quickly and machine-like as before.

"Chairman," said Oropun. "I'd asked about possibly moving the school or letting the children out for break early, or do you think we should wait for Kathryn to make that decision? Chairman?"

Regult had long since stopped paying attention to the debate. He was now staring at the two humans who had just meticulously stripped the weapons that the four of them had barely a clue about. Before long, the other three council members had turned and were staring too.

"What do you think," Janeway whispered even though the council only heard English. Chakotay paused examining her expression.

"Same thing we thought when the Azhatti first landed. The Trecta won't stand a chance against them in an armed conflict but now I'm afraid we're well past diplomacy."

"The Trecta have replicator technology," she said. "They could make more weapons."

"Yes but look at this," he answered, pulling a cover off the plasma rifle's power cell. "That's an eight-cylinder bio-cell. One of these will last _weeks_ longer than the colonists' counterpart. And here," he picked up a sniper rifle. "The range on this is at least twice as far as Trecta sensors can detect. The Azhatti could take out the peripheral settlers without them ever realizing they were there."

"How far is the range?"

"Fifty meters."

"Not all that impressive by Federation standards," Kathryn said. Chakotay recognized the don't-f-with-me look in her eye that he hadn't seen since back on Voyager.

"Are you thinking of distributing Federation weapons?"

"That's exactly what I'm thinking."

"We'd have to train them."

Janeway nodded. Chakotay took a minute to digest what she was saying.

"What about the Prime Directive?" he asked finally.

"Screw the Prime Directive!" she snapped, making the council members jump in their seats. "This isn't just some war we stumbled upon. We're not disrupting an already established culture. This is _our_ culture. _Our_ home. We built it, and I'm not about to let some malcontent bunch of aliens come in and take it because they're too lazy to work for it themselves. If I can better arm my people, I'm going to do it. If Starfleet ever decides to show up in the Delta Quadrant and rescue us, I'll explain it to them then."

"Good," said Chakotay, smiling to himself and thinking about the irony of what a good Maquis she would have made. He had to admit he'd missed 'fiery' Kathryn a little. "I just wanted to make sure I wasn't talking you into anything." She smiled deviously back at him and they turned toward the council, who had long since ceased their conversation and was now staring openmouthed at their human friends. Kathryn and Chakotay replaced their combadges.

"Chairman," said Chakotay. "I think it's time we told you a little more about ourselves."


	15. Chapter 15

Kathryn had taught the replicator in the room how to make coffee and distributed a steaming mug to everyone. Regult found he was developing quite a taste for it. It had an earthy flavor that was different than anything the Trecta made.

"Now," he began, swirling the remains in his mug. "From what you've been telling me, your human technology is actually more advanced than ours?"

"Some," said Kathryn. "Not all of it. Most of your day to day conveniences seem to be on par or better than ours."

"But your weapons?"

"In that we are much more advanced," answered Chakotay.

"I remember you showed me a little of your technology when we first arrived and I admit, it was entirely unfamiliar to me."

"Like we said," reminded Kathryn. "We're not from around here."

"We're actually from the Alpha Quadrant," said Chakotay.

"But that's…."

"70,000 light years away," finished Kathryn. "His ship and my ship were pulled into the Delta Quadrant by an entity called the Caretaker."

"And Voyager, the ship you've mentioned to us before, they left you both here because of the virus we all are familiar with."

"Exactly," she said.

"What happened to your vessel," asked the Chairman, turning to Chakotay.

"The _Val Jean_ was destroyed with the Caretaker's array."

"Where did you learn about weaponry?"

"At our academy," answered Chakotay. "I also taught tactical there before I…left Starfleet." He decided to avoid the subject of the Maquis. The Chairman noticed the pause but didn't ask.

"Is Starfleet the military of, what did you say your government was called?"

"The Federation," answered Kathryn, trying to take attention from Chakotay. "The United Federation of Planets, to be exact. It is an alliance of various worlds and the main governing body in the Alpha Quadrant. Starfleet was originally meant to be an organization for peaceful exploration but interstellar warfare has required it to take on a military role from time to time. At the very least, we need to be able to defend ourselves." She hoped she wouldn't have to go into a full on Alpha Quadrant history lesson. She was a little iffier than she liked on the Kittomer Accords.

"And you were both in Starfleet?"

"Yes," she said.

"I'm sorry, Kathryn, if I seem skeptical," said the Chairman. "It is not that I don't believe you both. It's just that I've only seen you as a woodworker, a teacher, and kind parents. Had I not seen you breakdown those weapons, I don't know what I'd think now." He saw Kathryn and Chakotay exchange knowing smiles. They were thinking of the Kazon they'd fought, the Vidiian ship they'd blown to bits, and the numerous times Janeway had been nearly forced to self-destruct Voyager in just the two years of conflict they'd experienced in the Delta Quadrant and they hadn't even encountered the lurking Borg yet.

"I can tell you two have quite a bit you haven't shared yet," said the Chairman, reading the looks. "What were you're roles on your ships?"

"I was the Captain of Voyager," said Kathryn, "and Chakotay was the Captain of the _Val Jean_. After his vessel was destroyed he became my first officer."

"Captains? Why am I surprised? And you gave up command to her?" The Chairman said, looking at Chakotay. Kathryn looked to Chakotay as well, hoping she wouldn't have to explain that she had actually been sent to arrest him and it was only their circumstances that had allowed him an officer's position at all. Chakotay laughed.

"Trust me," he said. "Captain Kathryn Janeway does not surrender her bridge easily."

The Chairman took another look at this tiny gentle woman he'd known for years now. Her eyes snapped fiercely as she smiled at her husband. He seemed to glow in the look. For a brief moment the Chairman felt like an outsider but he could see what Chakotay had been talking about.

"Captain Janeway," he repeated. This had been the first time he'd heard her surname. "I suppose you two made a good command team. You've always seemed to balance each other nicely, but you weren't married when you served together. You married yourselves on the planet, did you not? Ah. I can see by the look on your faces that's a story for another time."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Initial plans within the council had gone well. Now that they had decided to take action, Fidlimere had finally proven his worth, organizing their schedule for their preparations. Regult had proven a decisive man as well under pressure. At the meeting they'd established that the school would be closed and weapons replication would begin in all households as soon as the Federation specifications were transmitted. Though there was little debate once they'd all agreed it was time to fight, the meeting had extended past dinner and Kathryn and Chakotay were worn out when they went to Anar's to pick up their sons.

"So what was it," asked Anar as she let them in.

"Azhatti terrorists," said Kathryn. Anar seemed like she could handle the details; no need to sugar coat it.

"I thought so," she said, as they made their way into the living room, where Amal played on the floor. Anar paused for a moment but then walked around the couch where she found Kolopak pulling apart the padd she'd been reading just before his parents had arrived.

"I'm sorry about that," said Kathryn as she picked up the two year old. "He seems to do that to everything these days."

"Looks like he just dismantled it," replied Anar, picking up the pieces. "Ain't broke. I'll get it back together. Told you he was a smart one."

Anar took a seat in her rocker by the window and stuck her now ever present pipe in her mouth to chew on the end.

"So did you tell em?" she asked.

"Tell who what?" asked Kathryn.

"The council that you two are fighting people," answered Anar."Oh, you ain't the only ones who've been through the military. Regult is a wise man but he was never a fighter. You two been through it, though. I seen it the second I laid eyes on you. Always just a little too happy, just a little too relieved that everything's alright. Always got your blinders off."

"Are we that obvious?" asked Kathryn.

"To somebody who knows," replied Anar. "It's not a bad thing. You two can appreciate life. Really see what's good in it. That's the other side of the coin. That's what life pays us with when we've been through hell."

"You've fought your share of battles too, haven't you," said Chakotay, finally realizing where this elderly lady got her uncanny instincts.

"General Anar, four diamonds, at your service," she replied proudly. "Second woman to do it. Woulda been the first if it wouldn't have been for that old bat Centripida a couple hundred years ago. And when she made it, it was still legal to handicap your rivals in their sleep. Cut off one man's..." she eyed the boys and sucked on her pipe. "Well, all I'm saying is I made it fair and square. Didn't have to maim anyone to get to the top." She leaned back in her chair and rocked thoughtfully.

"Maybe with your experience you can help us," said Kathryn. "We need to put together a training program to get the Trecta up to speed on our weapons as soon as possible. You know your people better than we do."

Anar's face lit up with a knowing grin. "So you're fightin?"

"We have to this time," said Chakotay.

"I'd be happy to help," she said, looking eager. "Get me the specs for your weapons and I'll get a plan to ya as soon as I can. It's about time our race learned to hold their own again. It's what the Azhatti got comin," she chewed on her pipe again while she chuckled to herself. "Told ya you shoulda shot those sons of bitches."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

The council along with Anar, who had retaken her seat in this crisis situation, were standing around Janeway and Chakotay's dining room table with a map of the Azhatti camp spread out on it. The mood in the room was grim. Janeway and Chakotay had reverted back to calling each other Captain and Commander to remind themselves of the seriousness of the situation. Anar's training program had gone well and with the Federation detection grid they'd set up the next batch of terrorists had been waylaid quickly.

"It seems the Azhatti sneaks are getting in across the river far upstream and using the forest as cover," said Fidlemere, pointing at the map.

"Do you think they've built a bridge?" asked Oropun.

"Don't know," said Gerrol. "Scouts keep getting waylaid."

"What we ought to do, Captain," said Chakotay to Janeway, "is take the shuttle up and try and get a better view."

"We'd have to keep in within the atmosphere," she replied. "They'd see it."

"What if we took it up only for a moment?"

"Too risky. We were sick within an hour or so."

"But..."

"That's an order Commander. Too many people are relying on us."

He knew she was talking about the children as much as anyone else. "Understood Captain."

"I just don't understand how they're getting in," said Oropun. "Unless we figure that out there's no way to stop them."

"What if we don't try to stop them," said Chakotay.

"What do you mean?" asked Fidlemere.

"I mean try to get into their camp first," the Commander explained. "If we capture Durah'kett and hold him hostage, we might be able to come to some real terms."

"_Attack_ the Azhatti," exclaimed Janeway. "Our people have been training but I don't think they're ready for a battle."

"I'm not talking about a battle," he said. "More like a raid."

"Excuse me Commander," she protested, "but I do not think this is the time for a Maquis operation."

"I'm sorry, Captain," he said just as vehemently, "but I believe it very much is."

The tension in the room was palpable. No one dared speak up, even to ask what the Maquis was. Janeway and Chakotay shot daggers out of their eyes as they stared each other down. Finally, Anar broke the silence.

"Kathryn," said Anar, in a way that reminded Janeway forcefully of her mother. "You know he's got the right of it. And our people could handle a raid." Janeway turned to the elderly lady with a blank expression on her face and studied her thoughtfully. Anar just stared right back. Slowly she turned to each of the council members.

"You all agree?" she asked finally. All of them nodded. She looked back to Chakotay and took a deep breath. "Alright," she conceded quietly and turned back to the map, her eyes darting about as she assessed the Azhatti camp.

"I think we can use the regiment divisions we've been using in training for this," she began. "Gerrol, how far up did your scouts get when they were looking for the Azhatti bridges?"

"I'd say about four or five miles," he answered.

"Good," Janeway replied. "That means if they do have their own way across the river, it will take them a good deal of time to get to it. Anar, I want you to take your people across our own bridges and then take them out. Once Anar's people have the bridges blown, they'll disable their detection grid here and here. Regult, your men will come up between the hills. They think they're fully covered by the grid there and left it vulnerable. Commander you'll bring up your troops on the east and I've got the troops on the north. We'll continue on into their compound until we get to their ship, which I believe is set up as headquarters. Even if Durah'kett isn't there, he'll come running if we take his vessel. Disable any threats you see along the way but our goal is Durah'kett, nothing else. Stun only. No killing unless you can't help it. Hold him until Regult arrives. He'll be the one to lay down the terms. Chakotay, once your team is to the armory, confiscate their weapons..."

"No," said Regult. Janeway looked up at him in surprise.

"But they're dangerous," she said.

"Will we be keeping our weapons?" he asked quietly.

"Of course," said Chakotay.

"Then no." The Chairman looked more confident and dead set than Janeway had ever seen him. "I'm sure you think I'm crazy," he continued, "but I'm thinking of the future."

"So are we," said Janeway. "These people..."

"These people may be here for a long time," said Regult, "as will we. The Azhatti here now may have acted against us but what if these rules we make today last fifty years; last one-hundred years, last a thousand years; generations past the lifespan of anyone who remembers why they were made in the first place. In the end the Trecta will be punishing the Azhatti children for the crimes of their grandfathers. That isn't right. We'll move them south and put up stronger defenses for now. The land is just as rich below the equator. Maybe in time our peoples can make a real peace between them but I will not set my children and grandchildren up to be overlords."

"That's what happened on your home world, isn't it?" asked Janeway gently. Regult nodded. "Very well. They can have the southern hemisphere and we'll keep to the north and we leave them their arms. Is everyone else agreed on the plan?" Those in the room nodded. "Good. We move in at day break tomorrow. Dismissed."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Janeway's heart beat fast as she crept through the seemingly empty corridors of the Azhatti ship. Her tank top and cargo pants clung to her as she sweat in the humid atmosphere her alien enemies favored. It had been at least twenty minutes since she had contact with any of the regiment leaders. Anar had managed destroying the bridges and was making steady progress towards Janeway's location. Chakotay and Regult had similar success but had lost some people and were moving much more slowly. They were meeting heavy opposition. It was just like the Azhatti to underestimate the women. Anar might make the ship shortly after Janeway but the raid was quickly turning into the battle she'd wanted to avoid.

Janeway herself had gotten separated from her own troops. They'd fought their way into the courtyard and then been scattered. If they remembered their training at all they'd retreat into the woods until they lost their pursuers then circle back for another wave. Hopefully some of them would go to reinforce Chakotay and Regult.

Somehow, Janeway had made it to the ship unscathed. When the courtyard was clear, she'd slipped inside. Now she was sneaking through the hall ways holding her phaser tight and trying to keep her boots from clunking with each step. Suddenly she stopped in front of a door. There was movement inside, she was sure of it. Her heart was in her throat but her phaser hand was steady as she pushed the button to go in.

"Kathryn," said Durah'kett grimly when he saw her.

"That's Captain Janeway to you," she replied scornfully. "I'm disappointed in you: hiding in your ready room while your crew fights."

"Captain? Yes, it fits," he answered. "Well then, Captain, I'll tell you. I'm not lurking in my office by choice. Tic'tau insisted. He seemed to believe this raid of yours was solely for the purpose of kidnapping me."

"It was." She tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Chakotay."

"Don't bother," he said almost conversationally. "They put a dampening field around my office in case you decided to scan for my life signs. It blocks all communications as well."

"Then we'll just have to..." She was about to say 'wait for the others' when she noticed Durah'kett had been moving closer to her the whole time. Cursing to herself for letting her guard down, she made a move to fire on him but he'd already knocked the phaser out of her hand. Janeway wasted no time and nailed him with a right to his jaw. Durah'kett reeled but not far enough. He came at her with a backhand across her face. Janeway got her bearings quickly and launched her full weight headfirst at Durah'kett's knees, toppling him to the ground. She punched, kicked, and bit (nearly breaking a tooth on his scaly skin) as he grappled with her. She ducked out of his grasp and got to her feet looking frantically for her phaser but it was to no avail. Durah'kett got control of her, pinned her arms above her head and pressed her against the wall with his body.

"Why did you not just let us have what we wanted," he ground out almost pleadingly. "We'd be gone by now and your precious Trecta, that you guard like a mother Grabnix, would have peace."

"Not at the price of Trecta lives."

"I suppose you felt they needed to learn to defend themselves," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You did an excellent job with them."

"They did an excellent job," she retorted. "I still don't understand why you needed our land so badly."

"Don't you?" he asked. "Maybe not. We didn't want the land. We needed the ore underneath it that the Trecta had unwittingly plopped their little town on top of. It's the only place on the planet where it's close enough to the surface to get to."

"Ore? What would you need that for?"

"The ore, Captain, is what creates this planet's magnetic field that keeps the parasite we all carry healthy. That's correct. Parasite," he said when he saw the look on her face. "Not virus. Off planet the bug gets sick. It's parasite incontinence that kills us. Not so romantic now, is it? The fact that you're stuck here because you've got bug shit in your veins. The ore we needed to coat our hull with. It would reproduce the planet's environment enough to keep the tagalongs happy until we could get the serum to kill the little bastards properly."

"You could have just stayed. There was enough room for all of us."

"I thought you of all people would understand why that wasn't possible; what we really wanted."

"What was that?" Mostly Janeway kept him talking in hopes her troops would arrive soon but a small part of her was curious.

"Freedom," Durah'kett answered. "Freedom from this wretched little town and your wretched little peace. Freedom to pursue the only life I know how to live. You feel it too, the oppressiveness of this place. There are only two times I've seen you come alive."

"I'm happy more than you'll ever know."

"I didn't say happy," he corrected. "I said alive. One was that first negotiation when you told me you intended to be home by lunch time and the other, just now when you thought you had me cornered. There was a spark in those blue eyes of yours. The moment was serious but you were having fun. You were quite beautiful both those times."

She gave him the nastiest look she could muster and struggled ineffectually. Durah'kett only laughed at her.

"Why be so stubborn? Come with me. Help me to the ore then come with me. You could be alive like that all the time. When I get my fleet back I'll even let you have your own ship. I know a few people that could get that tattoo off your face... Captain."

"It would be nice to have my own ship again," said Janeway, turning her face up to his and staring him straight in the eye.

"That's what I like to hear," replied Durah'kett donning his golden smile he'd worn when he first met the Trecta and moving his lips closer to hers.

"But you're wrong about one thing," she whispered breathlessly.

"What's that?"

"I _do_ have you cornered." Janeway's lip curled into a sneer as she rammed her knee into his crotch. As Durah'kett doubled over she kicked him hard in the stomach with the rock solid toe of her Trecta hiking boot for good measure. Once she was sure he was down, Janeway snatched up her phaser and aimed it at him as she moved to his console to disable the dampening field. She tapped her combadge.

"Janeway to Chakotay," she said. "I've got him."


	16. Chapter 16

July 2388

Lorrit took a deep breath as he straightened up to his full Zahoran height of 7'4." He gave his brand new mustard and black Starfleet uniform one last quick dusting before walking proudly into the mess hall. As he entered, the crew turned and clapped for him. This was his party, the first graduate of Tuvok's Voyager Starfleet Academy, but it was a farewell party too. After 13 years aboard Voyager, the Zahorans would finally be reaching their home world of Zahora Prime tomorrow, but not everyone who had set out for that planet would be leaving Voyager.

"I'm so happy for you!" said Jenny as Lorrit approached her and Vorik.

"Indeed," said the Vulcan. "Congratulations. May we call you Ensign?"

"Yes," replied the new officer, proudly. "Tuvok said my rank is now official, though it's only a field commission. Starfleet will have to finalize it when we get to Earth. But what about you?" he asked nodding to Jenny's enormous belly. "How much longer do you have?"

"Any day now," she replied glowing. "T'Mir is looking forward to meeting her little sister."

Lorrit smiled as he flexed his ears happily at his friend's good fortune. He enjoyed it almost more than his own. While he had his ears fanned and open, he sensed the buzz of the other Zahorans. Krestic, Preva, Helia, Nellio, Blouxe, Tamaris, and Ennica all stood conversing in the corner. They wanted to congratulate him themselves before mingling with the rest of the crew. He nodded to Jenny and Vorik as he went to find his former shipmates.

"Well done, Lorrit!" said Krestic, enthusiastically slapping his fist to his shoulder. "I am glad for you. Your new uniform fits you well."

"Thank you Tribunus," he replied.

"I'm glad you were able to find your place," said Preva, "though I'm sorry it wasn't with us. Mind you don't forget where you came from though."

"Oh I won't," he replied. "I'm not the only one staying."

"Yes," said Ennica, smiling at Helia. "Our girl wants to stay with her man. I'm glad you finally found someone who could calm that temper of yours."

"Our two boys help me with my patience the most," she laughed, grinning back. "Are you sure you're not staying, Ennica?"

"No," she replied. "Neelix and I want a stable home for our little Alixia."

"I don't blame you," said Blouxe. "That's the risk you run as a spacefarer. You lose some of the Zahoran in you." Lorrit thought he saw her eyes flick over to Whed who was chatting with the Doctor. Nellio's ears seemed to twitch uncomfortably.

After each of the Zahorans had offered their personal compliments (Ennica not failing to notice that Lorrit had finally lost his baby cheeks and had some of the finest high-chiseled cheekbones she ever saw) the group broke up to mingle. Lorrit stood by himself to take it all in. His former crew blended into the crowd and spoke genially to everyone as if they were family. They'd all made friends or found love and yet, after tomorrow, it would all end. Lorrit was happy about his decision to stay but somehow still felt sad. After a moment, Whed approached him. Lorrit's ears twitched. He rarely could guess the mood of the young Zahoran though he didn't actually seem to exist in the Void. It was something Lorrit could never quite get used to.

_Have you spoken to them yet? _thought Lorrit.

_They will not listen, _he replied. _They shut me out or change the subject. _

_ You have to tell them. They'll know tomorrow anyway but it would be cruel of you to say nothing._

_ It is my mother. I would not call her Xenophobic but…_

_ She so badly wants you to stay true to your culture,_ finished Lorrit. _She understands that Helia and I will still be here to teach you Zahoran ways?_

_ She seems to understand nothing. I am getting weary of her failure to see that I have my own mind._

_ She only wants what's best for you, but you have to talk to them._

Whed nodded letting out a full frown.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Whed had trouble suppressing the anxiety he felt as he walked up to his parents. Even after extensive meditation sessions with Tuvok, his emotional control still seemed to act as it pleased. The unpleasant emotions caused him the most trouble.

_Mother. Father._ Neither made a move to reply. Whed twitched his ears then sighed. "Mother. Father," he tried again aloud. Blouxe finally turned to him with a wide grin tough Nellio looked apologetic.

"Whed," she smiled adjusting the collar on his dark grey Zahoran jumpsuit and brushing off the shoulders. "You look so handsome in your uniform. When we get down to Zahora we'll get you some proper Discens bars. The replicators here just don't get the greens right."

"Mother, we need to talk," insisted Whed. Nellio twitched his lobes nervously and seemed to take a step back.

"Why must you bring up that again?" she replied suddenly becoming surly. "Now and aloud in front of all these people."

"It appears that is what I must do, since you and father insist on keeping me in the Void. You cannot change what will happen by ignoring it."

"You have only nineteen and a half secras," insisted Blouxe. "You will do as we say and return to Zahora with us."

"I will not."

Blouxe glanced around the room as her ears vibrated in her anger.

"You know you cannot remain here alone until you have twenty one secras. You are still a child in the laws of the Zahoran government."

"I remind you that I am not going to be alone. I will have my Zhab."

"But he is not Zahoran!" she shrieked, ignoring the stares she got from others in the mess hall. "How will you know your people on this ship of aliens?"

"Through Lorrit and Helia and helping to teach her sons," he replied. "Do not think that I wish to forget my ancestors. In ignoring my right of Zhabine it is _you_ that are denying them. I choose to stay with my Zhab. Voyager will be docked at Zahora Prime for a week while Helia takes her family to meet her parents. There will be time to take the case to the Zahoran government. If you wish I will go with you but you do understand that the right of the Zhabine allows me to choose what parent I will remain with should my guardians go separate ways."

"What will you do on a _Starfleet_ ship?" She managed to turn 'Starfleet' into a swear word. Whed's ears twitched at it but he said nothing about it.

"I will continue my studies as a physician."

"That's something," she conceded though grudgingly. "Will you go through the _Starfleet_ training? That mustard color clashes so with Lorrit's hair."

"I hadn't decided yet," Whed replied not allowing his mother's repeated inflection to rile him. "And I would be wearing teal, the science color."

"Too close to blue, if you ask me," Blouxe replied. "Horrid shade."

"I rather like it."

That was the final straw for Blouxe. Her face screwed up in anger as she stomped her foot and walked away. Whed's father shook his head as he laid a hand on his son's shoulder.

_I'm sorry for your mother's behavior. It's the Vilinari, you know. She's so very sad that you'll be leaving us. It's hardest on the name-parent._

Whed nodded silently, thankful his father had let him in and released him from the oppressiveness of the Void. It was a balm that eased his current agitation.

_I don't want to leave things like this. I will miss her a great deal._

_ I know; as we both shall miss you. I understand your decision to stay on Voyager and that your Zhab needs you. It is an honorable thing you are doing but will you do one thing for me?_

_ What is that, father?_

_ Finish your time as a Discens. If you become a Praefectus third-class, should you ever rethink your decision, you can always get a job on a Zahoran ship. If I can tell your mother you promise to do so it will ease her mind._

_ I will, _he vowed wholeheartedly. _I'm sure Helia would be willing to finish my training._

Nellio smiled wide as he hugged his son. _I'll speak to your mother tonight. Talk to us in the morning and hopefully we will have a better farewell._

Whed nodded and hugged his father again.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tuvok's lips tightened as he watched the conversation between Whed and his parents. The Vulcan could not express how deeply grateful he was to his bond child for remaining on board but he also regretted the rift it was causing in the Zahoran family.

"You seem deep in thought, Captain," said Krestic, taking a seat next to Tuvok.

"I am," he replied. "I have always found it difficult to understand emotional conflict amongst other species. For Vulcans it is an internal battle and a thing of childhood."

"This lack of understanding troubles you?"

"It does, Tribunus. Due to the close quarters of Voyager, I have become extremely familiar with emotions in crew members over the years though I am no closer to being able to manage them than I was when I came on board. While I do not doubt my abilities as a captain, I am beginning to realize that emotional intelligence may be more important than I'd originally believed." Tuvok was thinking of Janeway. She had been on his mind a great deal lately. He had always had a healthy respect for his former Captain, especially her knack for making even the most disparate crew work well together. That was a skill he would need once they were outside the boarders of the Amalgam peace.

"Emotional intelligence," repeated Krestic. "Emotions. That is actually what I wished to discuss with you." Tuvok turned his full attention toward Krestic and raised an eyebrow. Krestic took that as a sign to go on. "You are heading into a dangerous area of space. Now, more than ever, it is important that your crew work as one. There can be no dissention in the ranks where you are going. Though on the surface the old tensions seem to have abated, I can still feel them. They are a crackling background noise just below all the happy chatter."

"I am well aware of the discontent amongst the crew," answered Tuvok. "I have been meditating on a solution to the problem for quite some time."

"Ah. I should have known you have," answered Krestic. "That was not all I wished to speak with you about. You will be pleased to know I have made contact with Zahora. They will be expecting us at the docking station tomorrow as planned."

"Very good," nodded Tuvok.

"I was wondering, Captain, would you and your engineers accompany me onto the station? There is something I would like you to see."

"Very well."

"Aren't you going to ask what it is?"

"It is logical to assume that you wished me to be surprised. Otherwise you would have simply told me in the beginning."

"Vulcans," Krestic laughed. "You may never understand emotions, but I doubt I'll ever understand your logic. But you're right. Shall I expect you in the morning?"

"Yes, Tribunus. I admit I am curious about what you wish to show me. I will have Ensign Vorik and Lieutenant Torres accompany us."

"Excellent. Praefectus Tamaris will be there too. He's rather excited about it, if truth be told. See you at 08:00 Captain."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

When Tuvok, B'Elanna, and Vorik transported to the coordinates Krestic had given tem it looked as if they were amidst the remains of a battlefield. They found themselves in a long tunnel with curved windows running the length of it and uncountable wreckages outside. While the tunnel itself was dark, lamps hovering in space amongst the broken ships like street lights illuminated the passage. The Vulcans observed the various wrecks with only a quirk of an eyebrow here and there but B'Elanna stood at the glass like a kid at a toyshop window. _All this new technology to explore… all the ships… if I had a million years…_

"The Zahora Prime Recycle Yard," said Tamaris as he and Krestic approached the group. "I think my people take their technology for granted sometimes. As soon as a ship flies off the docking clamps for the first time it's considered obsolete. Although…" they all flinched as a small explosion went off to their left. "Some of these are real disasters."

"What's wrong with that one?" asked B'Elanna pointing to a vessel a little farther into the distance. There was a ship that was engulfed in what looked like blue lightening. It faded as the veins of electricity grew denser until everything disappeared. Then the ship came back and began the cycle again.

"Transporter malfunction that took the whole ship," answered Tamaris. "The dock worker said it started after they hauled her out of a temporal fissure. No sign of the crew and she won't stay in phase long enough to find out what happened."

"Bet you're dying to get on there," she snickered.

"You know I am," he replied with the familiar twinkle in his eye. "I've got a ton of technology to get up to speed on. Things moved fast while I was away. We should catch up with your friends. Krestic stole off with them while we weren't looking."

B'Elanna woke up from her reverie and quickly followed Tamaris down the corridor.

"Tom know you're meeting me today?" he asked casually as they walked along.

"No."

"You didn't tell him?"

"I don't see why it matters," she replied, trying to tone down her defensiveness. "I'm not doing anything wrong."

"No," he muttered almost to himself. "You're not. Ah! Here we are."

B'Elanna took a good look out the window as Tamaris opened the airlock door. The ship outside was glorious. Slightly smaller than Voyager and a metallic pewter with just a light tint of green, the Zahoran vessel was well streamlined with the nacelles sitting just under the main body close to the hull.

"She looks brand new!" exclaimed B'Elanna.

"She has about seven secras," answered Tamaris, "and in need of a few simple repairs to get her running but she's in pretty good shape otherwise. The former owners just wanted a new yacht. Spoiled rich folk, I think."

B'Elanna tried to take in as much as she could as Tamaris led her down to the engine room, but couldn't commit it all to memory fast enough. She hoped she'd have time to really explore later after the official tour. They finally arrived at the engineering doors and Tamaris let her walk in ahead of him. She looked around in awe.

"This is nothing like Voyager," she said breathless. "How does it… where…" She had so many questions she could barely pick one to ask. Tamaris simply gestured toward the main control console, signaling for her to look as she pleased. B'Elanna stepped up to it and quickly began paging through data and routine diagnostics.

"The interface is really intuitive," she remarked, impressed. "Quite a few relays are blown, power conduits to the starboard nacelle are fried. Looks like she was just a victim of poor maintenance. Nothing major and the engine…" B'Elanna gasped and looked up at her Zahoran friend. His eyes twinkled, his ears twitched, and on his face was the most wicked little grin she'd ever seen. "This engine has transwarp capabilities," she spluttered out.

"Keep reading."

"And the technology is compatible with Voyager." Her voice was almost a whisper.

"I know!" burst out Tamaris. "Took me forever to find it. I've actually been in contact with Zahora Prime for a little longer than we let on. You have no idea how many junk yard manifests I went through to find a design that would work within Starfleet hardware parameters but here she is!"

"I can't believe you went to all that trouble."

Tamaris shrugged. "Wasn't that bad and I wanted to…for you."

B'Elanna's elation was suddenly subdued as she saw the soft look he was now giving her. She slowly moved away from the console.

"You still…" she stuttered. "I can't… I'm…"

"Spare me the speech. Of course I still love you after all this time. Feelings like mine don't vanish when you want them to but just because I love you doesn't mean that I covet you. In fact it means the opposite. You love Tom and you're happy. I see that now. If I truly care for you, why would I ever take that away from you?"

"But…"

"Let me do this for you, for your family, for your crew… as your friend."

She nodded, finally and smiled up at him, thankful that in the end he was content with friendship.

"I see you've found the best part of the ship!" Kresitc's jovial voice startled them to attention as the Tribunus entered followed by Tuvok and Vorik. "Have you told her yet?" he asked Tamaris, ears fanned and looking nearly fit to burst.

"I have," replied Tamaris. The Vulcans simply looked expectantly from one person in the room to another. B'Elanna's excitement returned immediately as she drug Vorik to the control console.

"Just look at the engine specs."

Vorik read through them passively then turned to Tuvok. "Captain, this ship has transwarp capabilities."

"Indeed?" Tuvok's eyebrows shot up as he turned questioningly to Krestic.

"And it's yours!" announced the Tribunus. "Tamaris' idea," he went on grinning. "I know our original agreement was for resources but I doubt you have room for everything we owe you. Tamaris figured you helped us get back to our home world so why not return the favor."

"The technology's compatible with Voyager," said B'Elanna to Tuvok. "We can take both ships. We'll finally have enough room for everybody and Captain, we're going _home._"

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tuvok, Tom, Harry, B'Elanna, Ayala, and Lorrit all sat around the briefing room table discussing how best to go about refitting Voyager with the new transwarp technology. Now that they were over the initial excitement, the actual job of completing the engine modifications was turning into a giant headache. The obscene amount of space travelers coming in and out of Zahora did little to help as well. Trouble was brewing on the outskirts of Amalgam space and the planet deep inside the boarders was becoming somewhat of a refuge.

"Based on initial diagnostics," B'Elanna was saying, "we should have Voyager up and running with transwarp capabilities in about a month, providing everything goes as planned."

"I sense a 'but,' Lieutenant," said Tuvok.

"The Zahorans have very strict regulations on space junk," said Lorrit. "Since the new ship is claimed, it can't sit in the recycle yard anymore and until we get it running, it's considered derelict."

"Derelict vessels only get a one week docking permit," put in Harry. "After that she'd better fly or else we have to haul her off."

"We could just sit here," suggested Ayala. "They can't make us move."

"Oh they can," answered Lorrit. "I've heard some stories."

"Can we see about extending the permit?" asked Tom. Harry shook his head.

"We got special permission to dock because we were bringing home lost citizens but once our permit is up, we go."

"May we apply to redock?" asked Tuvok.

"We could," said B'Elanna, "but we'd be at the back of a long line. We can't even just orbit. Too much traffic."

"Is it possible to tow Voyager along as we work on the warp drive?" asked Tuvok.

"Sure," said B'Elanna. "Between covering Tamaris' shifts, watching two kids, learning an entirely new engine room, and training my whole staff how to maintain it as we operate it, I'm sure I'll find the time." Tuvok raised an eyebrow. B'Elanna went on more seriously this time. "My other concern, Captain, is that, while I believe Voyager can easily be hauled along at transwarp, I have no idea if we can maintain her hull integrity at those speeds. I don't recommend anyone being aboard her while she's in tow."

"Just how fast will this ship go?" asked Harry.

"I can't really say just yet..."

"Ok, how about this. How long would it take to get back to, say... the planet were we found the Zahorans?"

"Best guess?" shrugged B'Elanna, "I'd say about a week and a half, two weeks, depending on what heading we took."

"Only two weeks to go back," said Harry pointedly.

"I certainly don't want to go back there," piped up Lorrit. His ears twitched as he looked at Harry, suspecting that he knew what Lieutenant Kim was getting at. "But we do need a safe orbit somewhere. It seems that's our only solution."

Harry smiled at Lorrit. Tuvok glanced back and forth between the two. Lorrit thought he was grasping what they were suggesting but wasn't sure.

"Once we do get this thing running," cut in Ayala, "who will the senior staff be? There'll be some room for promotions, finally, won't there?"

Tuvok's concentration was broken. "I will consider staff assignments when both ships are fully functional and transwarp has been successfully implemented. While I am agreeable to handing out promotions where due, I do not relish the thought of taking them away later if things do not go as planned. Mr. Kim, have Helia and the astrometrics crew start scanning for likely orbit locations. Lieutenant Torres, begin repairs on the new ship immediately. It is priority one. Mr. Paris, see about living arrangements on the new vessel. It may be necessary to move the entire crew before we leave Zahora. Dismissed."

The senior staff jumped to their feet.

"I think the Captain understood you," Lorrit whispered to Harry as they filed out of the briefing room.

"I don't know," answered Harry. "I'm going to try one more thing."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Tuvok sat at his desk in his ready room glancing over the reports Tom gave him on the new ship. The living quarters were designed well but fitting the entire crew into them was going to be difficult. Things were going to be tight until both ships were up and running. It was a bad recipe for an already tense crew.

Tuvok was startled as the shimmer of the transporter deposited an object on his desk. There was a note attached to it:

_This is what we need the most. It is in our reach now._

Tuvok raised an eyebrow as he held up and examined the small lavender orchid.


	17. Chapter 17

"Hey, it's the starship geek."

Ten-year-old Kolopak cringed as he heard Aldis and Rittan, two older Trecta boys, walking up to the cross-paths where he waited for his brother. He stuck his hands in his pockets and kicked a few rocks around hoping these two would be content with calling him a few names and moving on. He wasn't always so lucky. They'd been picking on him since he started in the secondary school with the twelve-year-olds. He'd been bored in primary so he had gotten bumped up a few grades. At first he was excited and was looking forward to having people to talk to about the higher sciences his mother taught him but found once he was in class, very few of the other kids shared his enthusiasm. Especially these kids. Today the teacher had been going over states of matter and he'd wanted to know how they fit in with warp propulsion.

"What were you talking about today?" asked Aldis with scorn. "Plasma inspectors?"

"Injectors," corrected Kolopak. The boys didn't like that.

"You need to learn to keep your mouth shut in class," said Rittan, threateningly.

"Yeah," put in Aldis. "You made us stay for an extra ten minutes. We got better things to do than listen to the teacher explain your stupid stuff."

"You'll have to learn all about it eventually," said Kolopak. "They're gonna find a cure for the parasite and we'll all get to leave. Then you'll have to know about it."

"I won't care," said Rittan. "I'll stay here and you can fly off in your starship and find that Captain Dork you always talk about."

"Captain Kirk and he's dead anyway."

"Whatever," retorted Aldis. "Did you cry when you found out he died? I bet you did. Big baby."

"Shut up!" yelled Kolopak, looking down the path, wishing Amal would get here.

"Yeah, you should go back to crybaby primary school," said Rittan. "Then you can wet your pants with all the little kids your own age."

"Shut UP!" screamed Kolopak, really mad this time. He turned to Rittan who only laughed at him. Kolo could feel his temper boiling and as the older boy's laughter only got louder, he finally lost it and shoved Rittan as hard as he could with both hands directly in his chest. Rittan, not expecting the attack, hit the ground with an 'oof' as the wind got knocked out of him. He got back to his feet, and Kolopak took a step backwards, seeing how spitting mad his enemy was.

"You little prick! Aldis, hold him for me!"

Kolopak made a run for it but before long the other boy had tripped him causing him to fall flat on his face scraping his forehead on the rocks. Aldis then picked him up in a full-nelson while Rittan punched him in the stomach. Kolopak closed his eyes and fought back tears as he waited for the next blow to come but it never did.

"Hey! Quit it!"

Kolopak was pulled back on top of Aldis as Amal elbowed the bigger kid in the face, knocking him to the ground. Amal then turned to Rittan to deliver a few well executed blows to the stomach and jaw. Besides the fact that Amal paid close attention to everything Chakotay had ever taught him about fighting, he had hit a growth spurt in the last year and was burly from working with his father in the wood shop. Kolopak momentarily wished he hadn't given up his own boxing lessons as he watched his brother soundly beat the bully into a retreat. Kolopak rolled out of the way as Amal turned to Aldis. Aldis just shook his head and backed off. Once on his feet he followed his friend at a run down the path.

"You ok?" said Amal, helping his brother up.

"Yeah."

"You're bleeding."

Kolopak just wiped his forehead painfully with his sleeve. They boys turned down the path for home.

"Your friends are ass holes," said Kolopak bitterly.

"Yeah, sometimes. What was their problem?" asked Amal.

"Asked too many questions in class," said Kolopak sulkily.

"You did make us stay after."

"But don't all you guys want to know about stuff?" asked Kolo incredulously. "How are you gonna pass your tests if you don't ask questions about what you don't get?"

"I don't think warp drive is gonna be on our tests," answered Amal. "Plus, I don't think any of those guys are into that kind of thing either. You can't make people be interested in the stuff you are just by talking about it all the time."

Kolopak also regretted how he couldn't make people not be stupid either. He had a feeling if they just _understood _it…

Amal went on. "Maybe you should just save those kinds of questions for mom and dad."

"Maybe," muttered Kolopak. "Where were you, anyway? I waited forever."

"Oh, sorry," said Amal sheepishly tugging on his ear. "I walked Melliana home."

"So I got my butt beat because you were wasting time with your _girlfriend_?"

"She's just my friend," snapped Amal. "You could have waited for mom and Amelia outside school."

"Waiting for my mommy won't get me beat up at all," retorted Kolopak sarcastically.

"I showed up in the end, didn't I?"

"Yeah," but Kolopak felt guilty yelling at him. His brother had bailed him out. "Hey Amal...Thanks."

"Any time," Amal shrugged. "Let's get home. I bet I can get that scrape on your head fixed before dad sees." The two boys picked up their pace.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"Why can't Plasma Pete eat dinner with us?" asked six-year-old Amelia. The name Amal had given their resident monkey when he was four had stuck. It was Kolopak, a few years later that had added the 'plasma.' Most homes had a monkey companion, due to the animal's uncanny ability to predict the plasma storms the planet was prone to. The monkeys weren't pets really but they were encouraged to stick around with friendly attention and treats. In the end, the monkey picked the family. Plasma Pete was the same animal that had greeted Kathryn in her bath when they'd first arrived, albeit a little greyer now and not so spry.

"Plasma Pete throws his food," Kathryn answered her daughter.

"Kolopak throws his food," argued Amelia.

"Yes, but Kolopak stops when we tell him to." She left the little girl to think about that one as they walked up the path to their home. Twelve years after the Trecta had first settled, the road to and from town was becoming a well worn one. The Council was even discussing plans for paving some of the major streets. Kathryn looked up the path to their house which now sprawled three times as big as their Starfleet shelter. It had to. Originally, they had given up their workshop and office for rooms for their children, but now, as Kathryn was a full time Quantum Mechanics professor, she needed her office back and Chakotay had a thriving business making furniture.

Kathryn and Amelia had stayed after school today for a long visit with Dalina, who was a brilliant physicist now in her own right and still kept up a strong relationship with Kathryn even though the former Captain had quit mothering the young girl years ago. They'd been discussing translating some of Kathryn's science books from English into the Trecta native tongue. It would be a great deal of effort but Dalina was enthusiastic and Kathryn enjoyed working with her. Kathryn also wanted the work because it seemed to help with the restlessness she felt now that her children were getting older and seemed to need her less, but it would mean more time away from home and she'd have to discuss it with her husband.

They were almost at the house. Kathryn let go of Amelia's hand to let her run to Chakotay who had come out to greet them. She paused a moment and looked up at her husband. His hair had gone completely gray and he'd let it grow out down to his chin but otherwise time had been kind to him. Kathryn thought about the silver streaking her own hair and the wrinkles on her face. They'd been on New Earth for what seemed like a lifetime now. Was it really so bad that they never left? She smiled at Chakotay who was still on the porch waiting for her. He wasn't angry, but she knew this meant she was late for dinner. Chakotay scooped up his daughter as she came to him and waved at Kathryn as she walked up the path. He waited for her to plant a quick kiss on her lips before they went inside.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

After dinner was over the boys set out into the woods to use up the last bits of daylight before they went to bed. Kolopak had found a new tree to climb that had a wide bowl amidst its branches that was roomy enough for both him and his brother to sit comfortably. Amal had some bread in his pocket from dinner in case Pete decided to join them. Once the two were comfortably up the tree, they each laid back on a branch. Above Kolo's was an opening where he could watch the stars as they came out. Amal began to issue the series of clicks and squeaks he'd learned over the years that would bring their primate friend to them. Before long the leaves overhead shook and the little monkey climbed down to take a spot on a branch opposite to await his customary leftovers.

"We're kinda lucky mom was late to dinner," said Amal, "or else dad would have caught me fixing your face."

"Yeah," answered Kolopak, staring through the branches. He thought he could see the first bright star faintly flickering even though the sun wasn't down just yet. "She's late a lot."

"She's working at school, I think," said Amal.

"They're not fighting, are they?" Their parents rarely fought but when they did they always kept it to their room. Amal's bedroom, however, was close so it had always been his job to report to Kolopak what happened.

"No. Not lately," said Amal, tossing a chunk of bread to Pete.

"Maybe she's bored," offered Kolopak. "Maybe that's why she spends so much time at school."

"Just cuz _you_ get bored easy…"

"She likes the same stuff I do," reasoned Kolopak. "Maybe she misses Starfleet."

They both knew their parents' history. Kolopak especially liked the Starfleet databases and old ship schematics and he loved all the old logs about the great Captains' adventures: Kirk, Archer, and Picard were among his favorites. But the boys never really felt the need to talk about their parents' role in all of it. This was the first time either of them ever had brought it up. Amal didn't answer. He pulled out another piece of bread and tossed it to the monkey. Kolopak shifted uneasily. He looked as if he was itching to tell Amal something.

"_I_ want to join Starfleet," said Kolopak quietly still staring up at the sky.

"You know you can't," sighed Amal. He'd been waiting for this.

"Who says?"

"You know we can't leave the planet. Plus it's 75 Old Earth years away. You'd be _dead_ by the time you got there."

"I might live to be a hundred."

"I don't think you can start at the academy all wrinkled and bent over," answered his brother.

"I can still _want_ to join, even if I can't.'

"I guess so."

"Don't tell mom and dad," said Kolopak pleadingly. "I don't want to get in trouble. Promise?"

"Promise. It's getting late. We gotta go."

"I want to hang out for a minute. Stars are almost out."

"If we're home after dark then we _will_ get in trouble," said Amal sternly. "They won't care if you sit on the porch."

"Fine," relented Kolopak. The boys climbed down and headed for home.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

The next day, Kathryn and Dalina were at the school library in the midst of a long difficult translation of a Quantum mechanics text. For the past two days, the translation had been going nowhere. Kathryn's combadge was sitting on the table, abandoned as it helped very little with the stickier technical terms. Often, they found themselves having to create entirely new words. She and Dalina had just shoved aside the most recent chapter and were taking a well earned break. Dalina massaged her shoulder and leaned back in her chair.

"It's getting late," she said. "Railik will be wondering where I'm at. He get's antsy when he has to watch the boys too long. Sometimes I wonder if he's not just as bad as them."

"He's still a young man," said Kathryn. "They grow out of it."

"Did Chakotay ever have that phase?" asked Dalina.

"No. I think he was forced to grow up early. He was always at odds with his father and then went to Starfleet academy when he was only sixteen, which isn't unusual but it's still young. After that, his home was ceded to the Cardassians and he lost many of his family."

"We've been lucky here on New Earth, haven't we," said the younger woman.

"Yes, we have."

"So when you were on the ship," said Dalina eagerly leaning forward, "you were in charge and he had to answer to you?" She'd heard bits of how Kathryn and Chakotay met, but never the whole story.

"Yes," laughed Kathryn. "I was sent to arrest him, actually."

"You never told me that!"

"He was the leader of a Maquis resistance cell and Voyager's mission was to bring him in. We followed his ship, the _Val Jean,_ into the badlands but then both our ships were drawn into the Delta Quadrant and the two crews became one."

"And he surrendered command to you?"

"Yes."

"How romantic," she sighed.

Janeway smiled to herself, thinking back to how _unromantic_ those days of mistrust and fighting actually were. The crew had finally come together though. She felt a pang of regret that she hadn't been there to see it grow up and what had become of them. After fifteen long years, she hoped they'd found a way back to Earth.

"So when did the two of you fall in love?" asked Dalina.

"I'm not sure, really," answered Kathryn. "He claims it was the first day he came on board Voyager."

"What do you say?"

"I have my ideas," she said slyly, thinking about the first time he'd stood on her bridge in those tight leather pants. She might ask him to replicate a pair of those after the children were in bed tonight. Even though he was older now, he was still in good physical shape from working in his shop.

The combadge on the table crackled to life. Chakotay was probably wondering when she'd be home. She tapped the badge on the table where it was.

"I'll be leaving for home in just a minute, dear," she said into the com. "Dalina and I just have this last bit to translate." The badge crackled again.

"Chakotay?" she said. "You're breaking up. There's not another storm coming, is there? Pete was quiet today so I thought we'd be alright." The badge crackled one more time before Kathryn and Dalina could distinguish a voice, but it wasn't Chakotay's.

"Tuvok to Captain Janeway."


	18. Chapter 18

"Tuvok to Captain Janeway."

"Is he talking to you?"

Kathryn looked at Dalina and nodded, stunned. She picked up the combadge with a shaky hand.

"Janeway here."

"Captain Janeway," said Tuvok. "It is good to hear your voice. I hope you and Commander Chakotay are well. Is the Commander not with you?"

"No," she said. "He's at home. We're all doing well, though." She thought twice at her phrasing. Voyager didn't know they had a family.

"I am pleased to hear it," said Tuvok. "Voyager Prime and Voyager II will be at your planet within a day or so. We would like to orbit while we make upgrades to our systems."

"Voyager Prime?" she asked.

"It is a long story, Captain," he replied. "We should have plenty of time to catch up when we arrive."

"All right, Tuvok," said Kathryn with a smile, "We'll talk when you get here. I'll need to mention your request for orbit to the Council but I don't foresee any problems. Just make sure you keep to the northern hemisphere."

"Council?"

"We've got quite a bit to tell you too, but Tuvok, I am sorry to report that we never did come up with a cure for the insect bite. You won't be able to come down."

"That is no longer an issue, Captain," said Tuvok. "The Doctor found a cure several years ago."

"He kept trying?" said Kathryn touched.

"Yes, he and Mr. Kim as well as other members of the crew never gave up hope that we'd be able to return. We will tell you the details when we arrive."

"Thank you, Tuvok, and convey my thanks to the entire crew," she said. "This will be a real reunion then, won't it?"

"We look forward to seeing you, Captain. Shall I alert Commander Chakotay?"

"No," she said quickly. "I'll be seeing him in just a little while. I'll discuss it with him then."

"Very good, Captain. Tuvok out."

"Who _was_ that?" asked Dalina.

"He was my tactical officer and chief of security when I was on Voyager, and a very old friend."

"He didn't sound very friendly."

"He's Vulcan. Haven't I ever told you about Vulcans? Never mind. You'll understand when you meet him. Right now, I have to get home."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"Chakotay,_ dear_?" said Tom from his chair next to Tuvok. "I guess a lot's changed with them since we've been gone."

"Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay were alone together for fifteen years," said Tuvok. "It is a logical outcome."

"Sounds like they're not alone now," said Harry. "There's got to be more than two of them to form a Council."

"Mr. Lorrit," said Tuvok, "can you take any scans from here?"

"Some," said Lorrit, tapping the opps control panel. "It looks like there's a colony of humanoids in the southern hemisphere and another in the northern hemisphere. I don't recognize the northern species but the southern looks like Azhatti."Tom shifted nervously in his seat. That could be trouble. Lorrit went on. "The northern colony also shows five humans! How'd more humans get out here? I thought you only dropped off two."

"Lorrit," said Tom, turning to opps. "I'd think by your age you'd know where babies come from."

"Oh, right."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"You're fiddling with your combadge," said Chakotay over their meal. She quickly put her hand down and went back to her food. She tried to make idle conversation about her day but couldn't get herself to relax. Kathryn had wanted to talk to Chakotay as soon as she walked in the door but dinner was ready and the children were hungry. It could wait until after they were in bed. He'd noticed she was agitated when he greeted her but she'd answered his questioning look with _after dinner_.

Chakotay knew when Kathryn played with her com she had a bombshell to drop. It's just this time, he couldn't fathom what it could be or why she'd left the com on during dinner. She wasn't acting like she had each time they were having another child. If it were anything to do with their neighbors or the Council they would have just discussed it at the table. The other thing that disturbed him was her demeanor while she talked about school and things that needed to be done around the house. He could tell she was unsettled by the steady stream of her conversation. All her questions and comments kept sounding like, well, orders. Chakotay decided to just let her rattle on until she noticed. The meal was tense for everyone except Amelia. She was busy making a tower out of her mashed potatoes. Amal and Kolopak listened as their parents volleyed back and forth.

"The school is going to be opening up again for the fall soon, so I'll need to start getting up at O seven hundred."

"Understood," said Chakotay.

"Amal, Kolopak, your sister's going to be in your building this year so I'll need your help making sure she gets to school on time."

"Understood, mom," said Kolopak eagerly getting into the 'game.'

"Chakotay, do you think you'll have those new lab tables done by Friday?"

"I think so."

"They'll also need a few more desks for the younger children."

"Yes ma'am. Who are we putting on clean up duty this evening?"

"It's my turn, but I think, Kolo, you're with me."

"Yes ma'am."His father gave him a quelling look but he ignored it.

"You know, Commander, we need to come up with a better way to keep track of chores. Now that Amelia's older she can start taking on more responsibilities."

"_She called him Commander,_" whispered Kolopak excitedly to Amal.

"Aye, Captain," said Chakotay. She didn't flinch. He went on with his meal but was watching Kathryn closely. "Should I start making up duty rosters?"

"Good idea, Commander, I..." she stopped herself at Kolopak's suppressed giggle, realizing what she'd been doing.

"Is everyone done with dinner?" asked Chakotay. Most of them were. "There's still some daylight left. Amal, why don't you take your brother and sister outside and play while I help your mother clear up."

Amal looked indignant.

"I don't want to play," he said. "I want to know what's going on."

"Outside," said Chakotay. "Now."

"C'mon," whispered Kolopak. "If we go, I don't have to do dishes and they always let us know eventually."

Amal had no choice but to listen to his father. He gathered up his siblings and they went out of the house.

"What's going on, Kathryn." They didn't even bother to start clearing the table.

"Voyager's back," she said without preamble.

"What?"

"Tuvok contacted me while I was with Dalina."

He should have realized by the fact that he'd been eating dinner with Captain Janeway, not Kathryn.

"Now what?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "He said they needed a place to orbit while they made repairs, but it didn't seem like they were in any trouble."

"Will you bring it up with the Council?"

"First thing tomorrow morning."

"I'll go with you."

"That'll be good," she said. "Tuvok also said they've got a cure for the insect bite."

"So we can leave," he replied slowly.

"If we want to."

"Do you want to go back to Earth?" Chakotay asked her.

"I don't know," Kathryn replied. "What would we do if we were back on Voyager? We only had command for two years. Tuvok has had it for fifteen. We've been out of service for a very long time. Tuvok never mentioned what his plans were as far as we're concerned. He may not intend to take us with him."

"I'm sure he would, if we decided we wanted to go back."

"Yes, but how long would that take? We have a home here, Chakotay, the only one our children have ever known. I can't rip them away from all that because I miss playing Captain."

"You miss it though?" Chakotay asked but he knew the answer from her behavior at dinner.

"I do," she said. "More than I'd realized."

"Let's not worry about it now," he said, moving to clean up the dishes. "We need to talk to Tuvok first and see what the situation is before we can start making any decisions. Just promise me one thing, Kathryn."

"What's that, Chakotay?" she said, standing to help him.

"If we find ourselves in a command structure again, promise me you won't dump me."

Kathryn was startled for a moment and looked up at her husband. Chakotay's face was painted with his full dimpled mischievous grin. Kathryn laughed and leaned over to kiss him.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Kolopak and Amal moved away from the window outside the dining room where they'd been listening the entire time. Kolo turned towards his brother with the biggest grin on his face Amal had ever seen.

"You hear that?" said Kolopak. "There really _are_ ships coming."

"Doesn't mean we're gonna go, though," answered Amal sulkily. He ignored Kolopak's further reasoning and went to gather their sister.

"C'mon, Amelia. Time to go in."

Kolo followed behind them with his hands in his pockets, kicking the rocks as they went but couldn't suppress the gleeful grin as he walked back to the front of the house.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Kathryn kept her combadge on the entire next day even though she was at home by herself. Chakotay had some business at the furniture shop so he'd stayed in town with Amelia after the council meeting and the boys were who knows where now that they were on break. She had half a mind to contact Voyager and have Tuvok scan for them just to see what they were up to but she decided against it this time.

Before long, however, Tuvok contacted her.

"Tuvok to Captain Janeway."

"Hello again," she replied gladly.

"If it is not a bad time, Captain. I am sending someone down to meet you."

"Perfect timing, Tuvok. Aren't you coming yourself?"

"I am very busy with preparing Voyager Prime for the refit and organizing the move of half the crew. I'm sure you can understand the amount of work to be done."

"Of course. I hope we can meet soon."

"I as do I, Captain. Tuvok out."

Before long, Janeway heard a knock at the front door. When she opened it, Harry Kim was on the other side, his arms seemingly overflowing with padds and nearly dropping the medical kit he held.

"Harry!" exclaimed Janeway. "Let me help you with those."

"Thanks," he replied. "There should be enough medicine in there for all the colonists. One dose should do it."

"Thank you, Harry, and be sure to pass on our gratitude to the Doctor for never giving up. Would you like something to drink?"

Harry nodded and they went into the kitchen to lay down the padds and make some tea.

"Nice tattoo, Captain," he said smiling at her from across the kitchen table. Even though Harry looked a little greyer and had a few crow's feet, Janeway was glad he hadn't quite yet lost his boyish grin. "Are you and Chakotay..."

"Thirteen years now."

"Any kids?"

"Two boys and a girl. Amelia is with Chakotay in town. The boys are off playing somewhere. Ten and twelve. I can barely keep track of them these days."

"I know how boys can be. I have two myself. Hos and Hyse."

"That's wonderful. How old are they?"

"Eleven and six."

"Who is the lucky lady?"

"Helia. You wouldn't know her. She's Zahoran."

"Zahoran?"

"A group of aliens that rode along with us for awhile. It's all in the padds."

"What _are_ all these?"

"Tuvok thought the two of you would like to catch up on everybody, see how the ship was doing."

Janeway thought the way Harry had said that was leading.

"I hear you have two ships now."

"That's right. Voyager Prime and Voyager II. The second ship is from the Zahorans and it has transwarp."

"What? Transwarp? That means you'll be able to get home..."

"In about eight years, once we implement it on Voyager Prime," said Harry, barely able to contain his excitement at telling her.

"So that's what you're in orbit for?"

"That, and since it only took us two weeks to back track, we thought we ought to stop in and pay you two a visit."

"Well I'm glad you did. Chakotay and I will have to beam up and see everyone."

"We were hoping you'd like to come up to the ship tomorrow night," said Harry. "Neelix was supposed to stay on Zahora with his wife but when he heard we were coming back to visit you he decided to stay on board for a little bit. We're going to drop him off on the way back. I think he wanted to be the one to throw a reunion party."

"I'm sure he did. That sounds wonderful."

"The crew will be really happy to see the both of you. They were never quite the same after the two of you left. The groundwork was laid for a good Starfleet/Maquis blend but the mesh never quite finished out."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm just worried about what's going to happen when we really do become two separate crews."

"I'm sure Tuvok will keep everything together."

"Tuvok does his best." Harry paused a moment then seemed to change track. "We're going to need quite a few more officers, though, once both ships are underway."

"Have you decided on the senior staff for Voyager II yet?"

"That's still in the works pending...a few things. I think Tuvok made some recommendations in the reports," said Harry, gesturing toward the padds. "I think he might want your opinions."

"I'm sure he's just doing that to be polite," said Janeway, laughing. "We've been gone awhile. I'm not so sure we'd have up to date advice."

Harry shrugged then smiled again.

"So, do you think you and Chakotay will be hitching a ride back to Earth with us?"

"We don't know yet. There's so much to discuss and a lot has changed since we were last aboard."

"Well, you have plenty of time to decide. B'Elanna and Vorik have at least a month's work on Voyager's engines before we can even think about testing them."

"That's good to know," she said. "Whatever we end up doing, if we can help you in any way while you're here, please let us know."

"Aye, Captain," said Harry with a twinkle in his eye. "Can I count you in for the party tomorrow? You can bring your kids if you want. Everyone else will have theirs there. We all like to show them off whenever we can."

"Put us down for five then," said Kathryn.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

After they had cleared away dinner, Kathryn and Chakotay had been at their dining room table for over an hour and had finally succeeded in sorting the immense number of padds into workable piles. Kathryn was sorting through the reports of the events Harry had pointed out as most significant while Chakotay sifted through the crew assignments.

"Look at this," he said, handing her some data. "It's addressed to us, only. Appointment recommendations for Voyager Prime and Voyager II." Kathryn took the padd and read it: _Voyager Prime: Commanding Officer-Captain Kathryn Janeway, First Officer- Commander Tom Paris; Voyager II: Commanding Officer-Commander Chakotay (pending promotion to Captain,) First Officer-Lieutenant Commander Harry Kim (pending promotion to Commander.) _

"It could work," said Chakotay. "Each ship operates independently of each other and we confer when decisions affect both."

"I still outrank you, though," winked Kathryn.

"Aye, Captain," he laughed. "Or should I say acting-Admiral? You've got a mini-fleet now."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she answered. "I didn't see Tuvok on there. I bet he appointed himself acting-Admiral."

Chakotay looked down the list and his smile faded.

"He's not on here at all. Wait. There's a medical evaluation. _While still fit for duty, the stress and strain associated with the command of a starship is inhibiting Captain Tuvok's recovery from neural peptide degradation. It is my recommendation that Captain Tuvok find a replacement before the damage to his neural pathways becomes permanent._"

Kathryn and Chakotay looked at each other, thinking hard.

"He wants to step down," said Chakotay.

"I think Harry was trying to tell me something like this when he dropped off the padds but he wasn't sure if he should."

"Why didn't Tuvok promote Tom or Harry?"

"I've been reading his evaluations," said Kathryn. "He thinks either of them would be ready under normal circumstances."

"But not out here?"

"He says Tom's still too impulsive and Harry needs time to play First Officer a little. He hasn't had that opportunity yet on Voyager."

"So it's not about making room for us after all. They actually need us."

"Do you think you could do it?" she asked.

Chakotay swallowed hard.

"Yes. Do you?"

"I didn't think so at first, but looking over all these reports and logs… It's all coming back like it was yesterday. I think I can."

"Do you want to?" he asked her.

Kathryn looked around their home. It was a house Chakotay had built with his own two hands. His sand paintings were on the walls, a vase Dalina had given them was in the corner, Amelia's toys were on the floor. Kathryn looked at the playthings affectionately, thinking about how annoyed she would have been just a few hours earlier that they weren't put away. All at once that house and everything in it became very dear to her but she knew in her heart she couldn't quickly abandon her old crew.

"I don't know," she said sadly. "Bringing the children on a starship out here?"

"Have you read the crew manifest?" said Chakotay. "We'd be the odd ones if we _didn't_ have children. Everyone has kids now, even Neelix. Tom and B'Elanna have two: Miral 10 and Henry 5."

"Tom and B'Elanna?"

"Yep. They got married four years after we left."

"We beat them to it?"

"Yes, but they weren't stranded on a planet all alone for two years."

"We missed so much," she said, wistfully. Chakotay had been about to answer her but they were interrupted by a crash from the living room.


	19. Chapter 19

Chakotay and Kathryn hurried to the next room to see what was the matter. When they reached the living room they saw Amal on top of Kolopak, hitting him in the face.

"You take it back! Take it back now!" he yelled.

"I won't!" screamed Kolopak, fending off Amal's punches with his arms.

Amelia was attacking Amal and bawling for him to get off Kolo, but the much larger boy could barely feel the tiny fists pounding on his back. He did, however, feel his father as he drug him onto his feet. Amelia ran to her mother and clung to her thigh. Kathryn picked up her daughter and went to her younger son. Chakotay nodded to her, indicating that he would talk to Amal as Kathryn led the now crying Kolopak out of the room.

"What were you thinking?" said Chakotay as soon as Amal had calmed down. "Kolopak is much smaller than you. You could have seriously hurt him."

"I wanted to," said Amal shakily.

"That's not like you," said Chakotay. "You always protect your brother. What happened?"

"He said…" Amal stopped himself. He didn't want to be in trouble for eavesdropping.

"Go ahead," said Chakotay.

"He said we were leaving. He said we were getting on the starship and never coming back."

"I see," said Chakotay.

"Are we?" asked Amal.

"Your mother and I haven't made any decisions yet."

"So we might?"

"We don't know."

"Why haven't you talked to us about it? You two talk to us about everything, but not this. Why?"

Chakotay realized Amal was right. He and Kathryn had been careful not to discuss the arrival of Voyager too much with the children, so as not to upset them, but as he was quickly discovering, they had taken the time to find out anyway.

"Alright," he said. "Let's talk about it." Amal apprehensively eyed the dining room door.

"Would you like to take a walk?" Chakotay asked. "We can have our own talk, man to man." He couldn't help but feel a little pride when his son straightened up and looked him in the eye.

"Man to man?"

"Yes. I'll even show you where I like to go when I need to think things through."

Amal was fairly certain his father had never even taken his mother to this place. He nodded.

"Alright, father. I'll go."

Chakotay walked over to the dining room door and stuck his head in. Amelia was playing with her toys and Kathryn was healing Kolopak's eyebrow that Amal had busted open with a well placed right hook. Chakotay had a momentary twinge of guilt for teaching his son to box so well.

"Kathryn," he said. "Amal and I are going for a walk." Kathryn nodded and smiled at Chakotay.

"We'll be fine," she replied.

"We'll be home before dark."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Kathryn finished up Kolopak's cut with the dermal regenerator and smiled up at him from her seat.

"There, all better," she said. "Does it still hurt?"

"No, ma'am." The little boy still was sullen and she was sorry to see it. Kathryn loved all her children a great deal, but somehow it cut her more when Kolopak was unhappy. He was a fiery little soul who hadn't quite found his place yet. Amal was big and strong, like his father and fit in easily where ever he went. Kolopak only ever seemed content when he was studying science or looking at old schematics of starships. She knew he was intelligent, much more so than the children around him, and they didn't understand him. The only person who responded well when he tried to teach was Amelia. That made Kathryn sad since she could discern the seeds of a natural leader in him that, without proper nourishment, might wither. Now she was thinking back to all the times she and Chakotay had seen him sitting in the yard at night, staring up at the stars. They had both recognized the look of longing on his face and realized that's what their own parents must have noticed so many years ago.

"Amal isn't even in trouble, is he?"said Kolopak.

"I'm sure he and your father are going to have a very long talk. Are you ready to tell me what happened?" He shook his head. By the look on his face she could tell he probably started it; teasing his brother as an outlet for something that was bothering him.

"Kolo," she said gently touching his cheek. "If something is upsetting you, I want to know." The boy stared at her, searching her face with the bright blue eyes so much like her own. He turned to the table full of padds.

"Did they send you the schematics for Voyager and Voyager II?"

"Yes," she said. "Would you like to see them?"

"Yes, ma'am." She pulled him onto her lap. He didn't object and even snuggled up to her like he had when he was little. She thought about how fast he'd grown and how few of these moments she had left. She pulled over Voyager's specs first.

"They're calling it Voyager Prime now." He took the padd and flipped quickly through everything. His eyes widened when he got to engineering.

"What are they doing to the warp core?"

"They're rebuilding it for transwarp. It's a whole new type of engine."

"How fast will they get back to Old Earth?"

"Eight years, as long as they don't have any problems."

"I'd be eighteen then," said Kolopak, almost to himself. "Isn't that older than when dad applied to Starfleet?"

"Yes, it is." Kathryn's heart nearly broke as she realized that in a few short years this tiny boy in her lap might possibly be making life long decisions.

"What did they do to the plasma injectors? Why are they like that now?"

Kathryn blinked back a tear or two and turned to the padd.

"I don't know," she said. "I'll have to introduce you to B'Elanna Torres. She's refitting the engine. Would you like that?" He nodded. She went on. "I hear she has a little girl just your age named Miral."

"Do I have to meet _her_ too?" Kolopak made a face.

"No, but you might want to," coaxed Kathryn. "She grew up on a starship. She could tell you what it's like."

"Maybe."Kolopak picked up the padd for Voyager II and was totally engrossed. Kathryn wasn't sure if she should be encouraging this but the desire was there. She couldn't quash it if she tried. That might even make the whole situation worse. She squeezed Kolopak close and kissed the top of his head, hoping that Chakotay could at least get Amal to open up to him.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Chakotay and Amal said not a word as they walked through the forest until they came upon the large rocks by the river.

"Just over here," said Chakotay as he pointed to the natural ledge. Amal smiled. It was just the type of place he would have chosen. He wondered why he and Kolo had never found it before, then frowned again when he thought of his brother, remembering why they were there.

Father and son sat next to each other. Amal expected Chakotay to begin questioning him immediately. Why did you hit your brother? I told you boxing was only for defense, but Chakotay said nothing. He only waited patiently, staring at the river.

"Is this where you come for your spirit walks?" Amal asked finally.

"It is."

"I like the sound the river makes," Amal said.

"I do too. That's why I come here."

"Why do you go on your spirit walks?" Amal had heard all this before, of course, but he liked the story.

"It is a tradition of the Rubber Tree People, that we are descended from," Chakotay began. He didn't mind telling it all over. He enjoyed that his son was interested in his heritage, something Chakotay himself had not embraced until much later in life. "We go to contact our spirit guide. They help us make decisions when we feel confused or lost."

"And you can't tell me what yours is?"

"No. I don't want to offend her."

"How old were you when you took your first spirit walk?" That question was new.

"Thirteen."

"Your spirit guide isn't mom, is it?"

"No," said Chakotay, laughing to himself. "I didn't know her when I was thirteen. Spirit guides are always an animal."

"But she's in the woods with you?"

"How do you know that?" asked Chakotay, truly surprised. It always amazed him what the children picked up and what they chose not to listen to. Amal knew what Chakotay had thought was private between him and Kathryn but Kolopak always had a deaf ear to any suggestions regarding making his bed or cleaning his room.

"She's always whispering to you, reminding you she's in the woods with you, whenever you disagree on something. Well not every time. Just when you disagree really bad. You two don't go for walks much so I guessed it had to be on your spirit walks." Chakotay didn't say anything. Amal thought he might be mad at him for knowing. "I couldn't help hearing you. I live there too," he added apologetically.

"I'm not angry with you," said Chakotay. "Just surprised. But, Yes. Your mother's spirit is with me where ever I go."

"Are all parents like that?"

"No. We were lucky. We're bonded together for life. Not many couples find love like that."

"Did you always love each other?"

"From the moment we met," he answered without hesitation, "though we didn't realize it until much later."

"When did you know?"

"For me, it was so gradual, I could hardly say," he replied. "For your mother, I think it was New Years Day of year 3."

"After you came here." It wasn't a question. "Why were you never together on the ship?"

Chakotay hesitated. This was sticky ground but he decided to plow on with the truth. He felt they were getting closer to what was bothering Amal.

"We were only co-workers then. It would have been inappropriate. She was the Captain and I was her First Officer."

"She was your boss!" said Amal, his eyes wide. Chakotay smiled.

"I had to take care of her," he said. "That's what a First Officer does; takes care of his captain." Chakotay could see the boy mulling it over. Amal thought about how his parents were to each other. The image his father just created fit.

"What if we did go on the ship? What would your jobs be?"

"She would still be Captain of Voyager but I would be Captain of Voyager II."

"She'd still be in charge?"

"Yes." Chakotay saw his son take a deep breath and he knew what the next question would be. "And yes, Amal, your mother and I will stay together. I've made her promise," he added, very seriously. Amal let out a genuine sigh of relief and nodded, staring at the river.

"Is that what you and Kolopak were fighting about?" asked Chakotay.

"Kind of."

"Are you ready to talk about it?"

Amal nodded and took a deep breath. Once he started, he found that it was a lot easier than he thought and it felt good to get it all out. The words came in a rush.

"It's that... It's that I don't want to go. Kolo does. He saw you guys talking about the ship and all your old friends and he thought for sure mom wanted to go and you'd follow her. And I don't want to. I like our house and the woods and I have friends here and Melliana..." Chakotay saw Amal blush before he moved on. "But Kolopak wants to join Starfleet." There. It was out. He'd told when he'd promised not to but he thought his father should know. "I said I wouldn't tell you but..."

"It's ok," said Chakotay. "I won't let him know you told. I wish he'd tell us himself though."

"I do too, but I wish he didn't want to so much. And I wish he'd quit talking about starships and science all the time. All the kids already know he's smart. If he'd quit showing off, they probably wouldn't pick on him so much. I wish he could just have fun like when it's just him, Melliana, and me. Then he'd have a lot more friends. I don't mind defending him but I get tired of it. Some of the kids he makes mad I'm not friends with anymore."

"It takes a brave man to stand up to his friends when he feels they're in the wrong, and I understand why it upsets you. What you need to realize, though, is that someday Kolopak will need to stand on his own two feet and you'll need to start taking care of yourself instead of everyone around you."

"You take care of mother."

"She can take care of herself if she wants to. I just have to remind her sometimes."

"So are we moving to Old Earth?" asked Amal.

"We still haven't decided," said Chakotay. "But I'd like your permission to tell your mother what we talked about. Whatever decision we make, your feelings matter a great deal."

"And Kolo's?"

"Yes, Kolo's too."

"You can tell mother. It won't be like a vote, will it? You know Amelia does whatever Kolo says."

"It won't be quite like that," Chakotay smiled. "I do think you ought to let Kolopak know you told me about Starfleet, though. He might be angry with you but he'll be angrier if you lie to him."

"Alright," said Amal quietly. "He's not in trouble for it, is he?"

"No, he's not."

"Can we sit for a little bit before we go back? I want to think about stuff."

"Ok, but remember I promised your mother we'd be home before dark."

Amal nodded and Chakotay put his arm around his son as they sat and listened to the water gurgle against the rocks as the river slid by.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

After all the children were asleep, Kathryn and Chakotay finally had time to try and clean up the mess of padds. Kathryn hadn't been altogether surprised at what Amal had told his father but it made their decision harder than ever.

"This really isn't about us anymore, is it," she said, sitting down at the table, "but how do you decide which child to disappoint? "

"I don't know," Chakotay replied, handing her a cup of coffee he replicated. It was time for bed but he knew she needed it. "And what about our crew? They were our family too, once."

"I don't know," said Kathryn.

Chakotay sighed. "I wonder what my father would say if he knew his namesake was the contrary one."


	20. Chapter 20

Kolopak stared around at the party from where he leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. Watching all the new kinds of aliens had been fun at first but tonight wasn't going like he'd hoped. He'd been almost giddy after the transport in but didn't get a chance to really look around after they got off the pad. Now he was stuck in a room full of people, which had never been a comfortable situation for him. Amal had made friends with the green haired kid right away and had a little pointy eared girl following him around. Amelia had even deserted him for his brother, and his parents already knew everyone. He thought about talking to a few of the other kids his own age but what if they were like Amal's friends at home?

He had to get out of there. Maybe he could sneak down to the engine room and get a look at a few things. Quickly ducking behind a blue guy to avoid his parents gaze, Kolopak skirted the room on the opposite side of Kathryn and Chakotay and somehow managed to make it out the door unnoticed. The farther he got down the empty corridor, the more his anxiety began to dissipate. He stopped when he got to the turbolift and jumped a little when the door opened of its own accord. He got in and the door slid shut. Now what?

"Engineering?" he said uncertainly. The lift began to move and Kolo's face broke into a wide grin.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Kathryn couldn't help but smile as she walked around the mess hall on Chakotay's arm, stopping to chat with as many people as she could. Seeing her old crew was even better than she had imagined and she was actually enjoying all the questions and compliments on her tattoo. She was sad to hear how Kes had left and hoped she'd had a good life after Voyager, but she was ecstatic about all the families. As impractical as it seemed, the crew had made it work and found some measure of real happiness in spite of their desperate situation. Everyone had seemed to find someone: Tom and B'Elanna, Vorik and Jenny Delaney, Harry and Neelix each had Zahoran wives, Meghan Delaney and … Ayala. Kathryn made a mental note to ask Chakotay later what Ayala's first name was. Then there were all the children who seemed to be everywhere. The ship had come alive while she and Chakotay had been gone.

Kathryn and her husband came up on Vorik next.

"I hear congratulations are in order," said Kathryn. "You just had your second child?"

"That is correct, Captain," he replied. If she didn't know any better she would have thought she saw the Vulcan's chest puff up with pride. "Jenny is over by the refreshments with T'Penna."

"You have another little girl, I understand," said Janeway.

"Yes. T'Mir is seven. I am encouraged at her progress in both her studies and meditation techniques. She is already highly proficient at suppressing her emotions."

"I'm sure you're very pleased," said Kathryn smiling.

"Daddy."T'Mir had walked up dragging a confused looking Amal behind her and was now tugging on Vorik's pant leg. Amal just shrugged at his parents when they turned to him. "Daddy, this is my boyfriend. I love him and we're getting married."

"I see our children have met," said Chakotay, trying to contain his laughter. He wasn't sure if it was Vorik or Amal who looked more surprised at the Vulcan girl's assertation.

"We will discuss this later," said Vorik, very seriously but T'Mir was already distracted. Amal had made a hasty retreat back to the other boys and T'Mir was frantically looking around for him. When she spotted him she disappeared into the crowd.

"You'll excuse me," said Vorik and followed after his daughter.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Kolo leaned on the railing surrounding the engine and stared in awe at the plasma swirling in the cylinder, mesmerized. It was even better than he'd imagined.

"You never saw a warp core, or something?" Kolopak jumped at the voice. He turned to see a girl about his height with prominent brow ridges, peeking around the corner at him. _Klingon_, he thought, trying to remember what he knew about Alpha Quadrant species.

"No. I haven't."

"You're one of those New Earth kids, aren't you?" she said, coming out from behind the equipment and standing next to him at the rail.

"Yeah."

The girl put her hands on her hips and looked him up and down, assessing him.

"Your eyes don't match your face," she said finally. "But I like them."

"Thanks, I guess. I'm Kolopak."

"Miral."

"Why aren't you at the party?"

"I don't know. Why aren't you?"

"I wanted to see the engine."

"Well there it is. Real exciting, huh?"

Kolopak thought it was. "It's different than schematics I've seen."

"My mom's making it into a transwarp engine."

"Why are the injectors like that?"

"Because you have to inject the plasma at a higher pressure now that it's transwarp. That's why they're thinner."

"Why are they bent?"

"The matter/anti matter ratio still has to be the same. Duh. You can't prime as much in a thinner injector so they have to be longer and we bent them so they'd fit." She watched Kolopak turn the information over in his head.

"Nice," he said finally.

"So you actually _get_ warp drive?"

"Yeah. My mom taught it to me."

"All the other kids take the same classes but they don't really get how it works. I like explaining it to someone and not have them look at me like I've got a third eye or something."

Kolopak didn't say anything but he knew how she felt.

"I want to be an engineer someday," he said.

"That's what my mom wants to be, but I want to be a pilot like my dad. Sometimes he takes me out in the Delta Flyer and lets me drive but I only get to go at low impulse. We can go a lot faster in the holodeck simulator. Wanna see?"

"Yeah!"

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Kathryn was in the middle of meeting Helia when Tom and B'Elanna walked up to them followed by their five year old son Henry.

"Just wanted to say good night, Captain," said Tom.

"Oh, are you all leaving already?"

"I'm coming back," said B'Elanna. "Tom's got the early shift in the morning and this one," she nodded towards Henry who was ramming his prominent cranial ridges into his mother's thigh droning out _mom mom mom_ over and over again with each head butt. "Well, this one needs to go to bed."

"Don't you have a little girl too?" asked Janeway.

"She wanted to look in on engineering," said Tom. "Just like her mother; working instead of having fun."

"She'd better be in bed too, when we get back," said B'Elanna.

"Maybe I'll get to meet her next time," replied Janeway. She looked around for her children but paused when Chakotay joined the group.

"Where are the boys and Amelia?" she asked. "I'd like to introduce them to Tom and B'Elanna before they go."

"Amal and Amelia are with those kids over there," said Chakotay, "but I think Kolo might have wandered off somewhere. I was just about to ask if you'd seen him."

"I wouldn't worry too much," said B'Elanna. "I'll help you look once I get Henry to lie down but there's one good thing about kids on a starship; they can't get too far and all the places they can get into trouble are locked up."

"Maybe," laughed Kathryn skeptically, "but you haven't met Kolopak."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

The kids made it to the holodeck without being stopped. Everyone was still at the party. Miral demonstrated the tricks she'd learned in the Delta flyer until Kolopak asked for a turn. She wasn't quite ready to let anyone fly her dad's shuttle though, holographic or not, so she decided to let him try to fly and escape pod. He was woefully behind in that respect anyway, since any good Voyager kid had learned to fly one of those by the age of eight. It was naturally her duty to give him a lesson. Kolopak was now trying to land on a planet when the program abruptly stopped.

"What happened?" he asked.

"We died."

"What do you mean?"

"We're not _really _dead. The safeties are on. You can't shut them off unless you're 18."

"What did I do?"

"You were doing great until you took the atmosphere too fast. We got too many micro fractures in the hull and the pod burnt up. It's ok. You're still new. I died every time for a month straight when I first started."

"Let's try again."

"Can't. It's 21:00 already. My mom's gonna be Klingon mad if I don't get home soon."

"What's Klingon mad?"

"Uh oh. That."

"Miral Paris!" B'Elanna had found them on the holodeck. "You were supposed to be in quarters an hour ago."

"Sorry, mom."

"Who's your friend?"

"This is Kolopak. He didn't know how to fly an escape pod, so I thought it was important to show him," she answered matter of factly.

"You're Chakotay and Kathryn's son, aren't you?" Kolo nodded. "Your parents are looking for you."

"Are you in trouble?" whispered Miral as they followed B'Elanna out of the holodeck and down the corridor.

"Probably," said Kolopak, rolling his eyes, "but my mom doesn't get _Klingon_ mad. You can tell she's mad because she does this." Kolo put his hands on his hips and screwed up his face into the perfect imitation of the Janeway 'death stare.' B'Elanna had turned around to comment on what she assumed had been a description of her but had to stifle a laugh when she saw the mini version of the Captain Janeway she used to know.

_Found the right kid alright, _she thought to herself.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

The next day, Tuvok had asked Janeway to meet with him to discuss the information in the padds. She thought about his staff recommendations as she waited in her old ready room for him. It was exactly how she remembered it, though it was odd to be surrounded by artificial walls and breathe recycled atmosphere again. She hoped he wouldn't need a decision today. Tuvok found her at the window staring out at the stars when he came in.

"I am sorry to have kept you waiting," said Tuvok. "The crew is anxious to get settled into their new quarters."

"I can imagine," said Janeway, taking a seat on the couch. Tuvok sat next to her. "You've nearly doubled the number of people on Voyager."

"And we will require every single one, once Voyager II needs to be staffed."

"I was wondering about that," she said. "Did I see a child operating the transporter when I came on?"

"Yes," replied Tuvok. "I believe Salvatore Ayala is on duty in the transporter room this evening. We incorporate regular training and duty shifts with the child's education. It is a Zahoran practice. They groom their children for their careers from a very young age. We've successfully adapted their methods to our needs."

"But they're children," said Janeway.

"We do not overwork them," replied Tuvok. "Each individual's schedule is made to fit their abilities. I see that you are still skeptical, Captain, but what you must understand is that we no longer have the luxury of thinking of space travel and ship duties as a career choice. It has become a way of life. Think of early agricultural and pastoral societies where the children were required to help with the work because it was simply how things were done. That being said, however, the necessity makes me extremely apprehensive."

"Oh? How so?"

"After fifteen years we are indeed forming something of our own culture here on Voyager," he began. "Even the naming of the ships is evidence of that. Rather than call the new ship Voyager-A or by some other nomenclature traditional for vessels, the crew decided on Prime and II which are generally used when naming planets. After we lost the unifying factor of you and the Commander, the Starfleet/Maquis tension resurfaced. Now that we are on the verge of splitting into two crews, we face the possibility of the rift will becoming more permanent."

"You could always make sure that you have a good mix on each ship," she suggested. "That is the plan but unfortunately that is not all," said Tuvok. "Due to my health, I am not the Captain I once was. Because of this, I have taken very few risks or short cuts during our time in the Delta Quadrant. While we now have transwarp, there is no guarantee we will have straight course home or that the technology will not fail. I am concerned, Captain, that if we do not arrive at Earth before the Delta-borns begin running the ship, there will be no incentive for them to continue to the Alpha Quadrant and all I will have succeeded in doing is creating a race of gypsies. I have noted in most cultures throughout the galaxy, that gypsies are rarely well received."

"I see your concern," replied Janeway, "and Chakotay and I are considering the matter, but you'll understand we can't make this decision lightly. We have to consider what's best for our children."

"I expected nothing less," said Tuvok.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

It had been two weeks since Voyager had been in orbit. Because of his family's frequent visits to the ship, Amal quickly found that he'd now been demoted in the eyes of his peers to Kolopak's level of 'starship geek.' Though he could hold his own against anybody he was now defending himself as much as his brother. This time, he'd gotten caught and the teacher had told his father. His mother wasn't home yet but he was sure news traveled fast at the school and she probably already knew. _This is backwards,_ he thought bitterly. _Kolopak gets in trouble, not me. _

Amal stood in the living room in front of his father with his head down. His rib hurt but he didn't want to admit it. If he told his father about it then he'd know just how bad the fight had been. The other kid had come out worse.

"How many fights has this been?" asked Chakotay.

"This week?" asked Amal. By the look on Chakotay's face he could tell that probably had not been the best response.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since Kolopak got moved up to my grade," said Amal. "At first I was just defending _him_, but since Voyager got here…"

Chakotay had to say he was genuinely surprised when Amal had gotten sent home from school with a padd from his teacher. That had never happened before. It was usually Kolopak that got in trouble for mouthing off. This time Amal had gotten into a fight in the classroom just as they were returning from lunch. The teacher, entirely unfamiliar with boxing, had been highly disturbed at the accuracy and stoicism displayed by Amal as he pounded the face of his fellow student. And this was apparently not the first instance. Chakotay hadn't realized the fighting had been so bad. He knew Kolopak had a hard time with some of the other children and he knew his brother often came to his rescue, but Chakotay had imagined some angry words and a few shoves.

"Amal, you need to realize you've grown a lot in the last year and I'm starting to think that Trecta children don't hit their own growth spurts until after humans do. With your size and training you could seriously hurt someone."

"I wish they'd all figure that out," grumbled Amal. "Then maybe they'd leave me alone."

"Why didn't you tell somebody? Your mother, me, the teacher?"

"Wouldn't have made a difference."

Chakotay thought his son was probably right.

"Is something bothering you?" asked Chakotay next.

"Same stuff as before," replied Amal. "Are we moving?"

"We still don't know." He knew that was a poor answer. "Why don't we discuss this some more when your mother gets home."

"Fine," Amal shrugged. "Am I still in trouble?"

"I wouldn't say that exactly, but we do need to find a solution to this. You can't keep fighting every single person who picks on you or your brother."

"I know. Do you care if I go out? I just want to think about stuff for a little while."

"Fine, but stay out of trouble and be home by 17:00."

Amal nodded and headed sullenly out of the house.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Amal sat in the branches of his and Kolo's tree by himself, idly throwing bits of food to Pete. He had to admit, even though he and his brother hadn't been getting along lately, he still missed him. Kolopak had been spending all his free time with the Voyager kid, Miral. Not that there was anything wrong with the Voyager kids. He liked Hos because he was funny and Miral wasn't too bad. She was the only one he knew that could get Kolopak to quit talking when he was on a roll. He even liked little T'Mir who had become his shadow whenever he was aboard the ship. He'd been neglecting his friends here, but lately, because of Kolopak and Voyager, Melliana seemed to be the only one he had left.

It made him nervous that his dad still couldn't give him a straight answer on whether or not they were moving. Kolopak seemed to be sure they would and his brother always seemed to have a knack for knowing what would happen. Whenever Amal thought about leaving, he became sad. It wasn't that he was afraid. Simply sad and then Melliana's face would seem to float in front of him. He wished things could just go back to how they were before Voyager came.

What Amal needed now was for something, anything, to make some sense. He needed some sort of answer. Usually he went to his parents for that kind of thing but they didn't know either. Where do adults go when they don't have solutions? His father took a spirit walk. Amal knew what he would do.


	21. Chapter 21

"Father I want a tattoo."

Chakotay was glad he had only been sanding. Even so, he'd nearly sanded the skin off his index finger when Amal had made his announcement in front of his work bench.

"What?" he spluttered. "Where?"

"On my face," Amal answered confusedly. "Like yours."

Chakotay breathed a quick sigh of relief. He should have guessed.

"Tattoos are pretty permanent," he replied, "and people change their minds all the time, even when we get old. It needs to mean something to you. You need to understand it."

"I understand it," Amal insisted a little petulantly, although even he heard how young his voice sounded when he said it. "You wear it to honor your father. He had it to honor the sky spirits who honored the land."

"Yes. That's why _we_ have the tattoo, but what does it mean to _you?_"

Amal's mouth opened and closed as he searched for an answer.

"Perhaps that question was unfair," smiled Chakotay gently. "I haven't shown you enough yet. Come with me."

It was a warm day, though cloudy now for Amal and Chakotay's walk to the rocks by the river. A few drops of drizzle hit them in the face as they went but it would be at least an hour before it began raining. Amal loved the weather when it was like this and he especially loved the rain when it was warm enough to run in it. The sharp smell of the native fruit trees was in the air too. It became more pungent the more humid it got. Amal breathed it in and smiled, realizing how much he really did love his home. He could hear monkeys in the trees too though he was sure Pete wasn't with them. They each had their own chatter if you listened close enough. He longed to try to call one of them but they had other business and he sped up his pace to catch up to his father.

When they got to the rocks, Chakotay and Amal knelt across from each other and Chakotay spread out his medicine bundle between them. Amal looked down at the objects. He passed over the akoonah and ran his fingers in the smooth grooves of the chamusi carved on the river rock. The black bird's wing struck him as oddly dark but not out of place and when he got to the shell he picked it up to examine it further.

"This is mother," he said.

"It is," replied Chakotay. "She is a part of me and therefore needs to be represented in my bundle. In time you will build your own but mine will work for now."

"What goes in mine?"

"Whatever you want. They should be things that have meaning to you, though. It should be a representation of you. Your medicine bundle is a way of introducing yourself to your spirit guide. Now, place your hand on the akoonah, close your eyes, and repeat after me: _Akoochimoya."_

"_Akoochimoya_."

"We are far from the sacred places of our grandfathers."

"We are far from the sacred places of our grandfathers."

"We are far from the bones of our people."

"We are far from the bones of our people."

"But perhaps there is one powerful being who will embrace this man and give him the answers he seeks."

"But perhaps there is one powerful being who will embrace this man and give him the answers he seeks."

Amal could feel himself slowly drift out of himself but he kept his eyes closed. His breathing became deeper and more exacting as if something would not let him stop inhaling until he had the precise amount of air. Then exhale the same way and inhale one more time, but the air now smelled different; more pungent. The sharp smell from the fruit trees was still present only more present if that were possible. He seemed to relish it more. A faint wisp of salt air went by him too but it was illusive after that. The thought that he would like to see the ocean flitted through his mind almost as quickly.

Amal took a few more of the deep breaths and then opened his eyes. He was in his woods but not. Everything he loved about his home seemed to be gathered in one place. His house was behind him with Kolo and his favorite climbing tree just in front. Only a little further on was the landing at their cabin where he and his brother liked to swim. His father had told him before that once in the spirit world he should look for an animal. That animal would speak to him and would then be his spirit guide but he saw nothing. He went over to the landing and kicked off his shoes to splash around a little. He did love to swim. Perhaps it would be a fish. He turned around to look up at the hills, wriggling his toes in the sand and enjoying the current between them. He was searching amongst the peaks for the twist of smoke from Anar's fireplace when he saw something swooping through the trees down from the tallest peak. The silhouette of the animal got bigger and bigger as it came gliding quietly towards him but Amal was not afraid.

When the giant bird landed, however, he could not help but feel indignance. It wasn't that he was disappointed in the thing itself. If anything he was impressed. It was an enormous creature, nearly as big as he was with a magnificent wingspan but it was just…

"You're my spirit guide?"

"Yes," replied the animal, bobbing its enormous head.

"But you're an Old Earth animal."

"Yes," he said. "I am a Condor. Do you not approve?"

"This is _New_ Earth. You don't belong here."

"You're an Old Earth animal as well," answered the bird. "Do you not belong here either?"

Amal though for a moment. "I do belong here. My heart is here and always will be." He knew that without a doubt now.

"Good, good. It is good that you know this."

They both stood and looked at each other for a few moments. Amal wiggled his toes in the river but still was silent, waiting. When the boy did not appear forthcoming with questions, the Condor began preening his wing.

"Aren't you supposed to be telling me things?" asked Amal "I came looking for answers."

"And I will help you find them," said the bird, "when you ask me the questions." Amal still said nothing. "It is alright if you still don't know what to ask. The answers you seek are deep in your spirit already and I am here to help you dig them up but you see it is troublesome to locate them if you don't first know what you are looking for."

"Ok, then. Is my family moving to Old Earth?"

"Eh?" The Condor seemed to shrug. "Maybe, maybe not."

"That's no answer."

"I'm _your_ spirit guide. I am not of your parents' spirits. Have you asked them?"

"I've tried but they don't know."

"Have you talked to them about it?"

"A little."

"But your spirit holds much worry on the subject."

"I guess so."

"Then you must talk to your parents in proportion to the worry," pronounced the bird. "If you say very little they will believe you care very little. You have more influence in the matter than you think. Remember too, the more you worry on the outside the less you will worry inside." With that, the condor took wing. Amal watched it soar up over the hills. After a few moments he found himself blinking on the rock across from his father. Chakotay was gazing expectantly at his son.

"I met my spirit guide," said Amal. "I think I'm more confused than I was before."

"Sometimes it happens that way," Chakotay replied. "Take a few days to think about what was said then we'll try again."

"Can I have my tattoo now?"

"How about we wait a few more days and a few more spirit walks on that too. On your thirteenth birthday, if you still want it and can tell me why, _and_ your mother approves, then alright."

The two got up and headed for home. Amal mulled over what he'd seen the entire way back and already a list of questions were springing up faster than he could remember them. He'd make his way to the rocks tomorrow for sure.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"I do not understand," said Whed as he and the Doctor lugged large medical cases through the woods and heavy underbrush to the southern hemisphere of New Earth. "Why does Captain Janeway want to cure the Azhatti when they are her enemies?"

"By helping them, she helps everyone," explained the Doctor. "The Azhatti want to leave the planet. Though the Trecta have managed to keep the peace for the last few years, they will probably never really have it until the Azhatti get what they want."

"And what of the people this group will likely rob or kill once they are off New Earth?" asked the young Zahoran, raising an eyebrow in what the EMH thought a very Tuvok-like fashion.

"We don't know if that is what they'll do," he replied. "Also, it is for the Amalgam to police them, not us." Whed still looked skeptical. "Sometimes, when you are confronted with a difficult decision, you must weigh all courses and choose the one that causes the least harm." Whed nodded but said nothing. "When is this Zahoran phase done?" asked the Doctor with mock irritation.

"The one where I question _everything_?" Whed let a quirk of a smile escape. "About sixteen human years."

"I'll throw your sixteenth birthday party myself," answered the Doctor.

"Stop right there!" Two Azhatti and jumped out of the bushes and were aiming phase rifles at Whed and the EMH. "This is our territory," said the bigger one. "You've got no right being here. What do you want? What's in your cases?"

"We're physicians," the Doctor replied. "Captain Janeway sent us here to distribute medication against the parasite that is keeping you on the planet."

"Captain Janeway?" said the first Azhatti. The second leaned over and whispered into his ear. "Ah. That little human female. You look human too," he said pointing accusingly at the Doctor. "Where's your tattoo?"

"Uh," the Doctor stuttered, choosing not to explain his actual physiology just at that moment. "Not all humans choose to tattoo themselves."

"And you," the big Azhatti went on, turning to Whed. "You're Zahoran."

"And you are a pirate," replied Whed calmly. The alien's face screwed up indignantly. "Oh. I apologize," continued Whed as stoically as ever. "I'd assumed you were initiating a conversation of the obvious. No?"

"Alright," the Doctor interjected. "As I was explaining, we are physicians and we have medicine for you. We were instructed to ask for Durah'kett."

"But _his_ people work for the bloody toad-man now," protested the second Azhatti, nodding toward Whed and clutching his rifle even harder. "And he's wearing one of their uniforms. How do we know he ain't gonna arrest us as soon as we take their medicine and can leave?"

"If you know so much about my people," replied the young Zahoran, "you'll notice from the bars on my sleeve that I am only a Discens. I won't even be a Praefectus third class for another human year, so I am not exactly in a position of authority."

The first Azhatti looked him up and down.

"Guess you do look a little young," he grunted finally. "Forgot how tall you buggers get. Fine. We'll take you to Durah, but you walk in front."

Whed and the Doctor took the lead with guns in their backs as the group trudged through the forest with the Doctor vaguely wondering if the Azhatti would notice if he attempted to adjust his emitter to desolidify himself.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

"So Captain Janeway wants to help us," said Durah'kett, stabbing at another bite of his meal with his knife. The Doctor and Whed had found him at diner with Tic'tau. Normally he granted audience to no one when he was eating but this was too interesting. He had to see what the human female wanted. He'd been waiting for something to happen since their sensors had picked up ships in orbit a few days ago but he hadn't expected this. He badly wanted to satisfy his curiosity about the faint Borg signature too but held his tongue on that count.

"It could be as In'nout said," suggested Tic'tau.

"I don't think so," answered Durah'kett, eyeing his visitors that stood before him. "If I know Janeway at all, if she wanted to arrest me or kill me, she'd do it herself. Fine. We'll take your medicine, but we have to test it first."

"Very well, replied the Doctor, loading up a hypospray. "Who is our first patient?"

"Me," grunted Druah'kett.

"But Durah," protested Tic'tau. "What if it _is_ poison?"

"Then you'll be in charge and those two will die quick enough. If it is, I certainly can't ask one of my men to die by something that was meant for me. We may be pirates but we're not savages. I won't order any of them to do something I wouldn't do myself." He turned a gruff look on the Doctor. "Make sure you let Janeway know that." The EMH nodded as he hyposprayed the Azhatti captain in the neck. After a few tries he finally found a gap in the thick grey scales. Durah'kett quickly shook his head to throw off the sting. The Doctor scanned him with a tricorder looking satisfied.

"I'm showing no signs of complications between the serum and Azhatti physiology. The parasite is now dying and your body should flush all traces of it within a day or so. Can you read a medical tricorder?"

"I think so," he replied, snatching the instrument and grunting approvingly as he skimmed through the data. "Very well. Distribute your medication but tell Janeway that if anymore of her people show up in Azhatti territory unannounced I won't be as forgiving as this time." Durah'kett kept his eyes on the two as they walked away to administer the serum amongst the camp.

"Did you see what I saw?" he asked, leaning towards Tic'tau.

"What?"

"A Zahoran in uniform."

"A very low ranking one," replied Tic.

"Exactly," said Durah. "He's a Discens. That low of a rank is still in training, meaning at least one of the ships in orbit must be Zahoran."

"Now that we can leave the planet," pointed out Tic'tau, "we're going to need a way to get back into our business. Most of our clients have probably given us up for dead."

"We'd need an advantage over our competitors, without a doubt," replied Durah'kett with a steeliness in his voice Tic hadn't heard since before they crashed.

"A Zahoran ship for crossing Amalgam borders would certainly be an advantage," mused Tic'tau. Durah'kett smiled to himself as he went back to his meal.


	22. Chapter 22

Amal looked excitedly out the kitchen window at all the people showing up for his 13th birthday party. His parents had decorated the back yard with strings of colored lights and set up tables upon tables of food. Chakotay was putting the finishing touches on the buffet that very moment. They were going to light a bonfire later too when the sun went down. With everyone from town and all his new friends from the ship, it was going to be huge. Mostly it was his parents' friends so far. Tuvok the Vulcan, and Tom and his Klingon wife were there already. He liked her ridges on her forehead. Something about them just looked… cool.

'Cool' was an expression he'd picked up from the Voyager kids. His new friend Hos heard it when he found a bunch of old music in the Voyager data banks from around Old Earth 1990s. He said their parents hated it, (alternative, country, rap, and pop alike) but all the kids seemed to love it. Amal looked around again. Miral, the Klingon girl had already run off with Kolopak. He said he was showing her their tree today. Amal didn't mind. He was glad Kolo had found a new friend. He had a twinge of guilt when he thought of that. He'd made up his mind to talk to his parents and let them know he wanted to stay.

Amal gently felt the tender bit of his face around his left eye over his forehead. His father had told him to quit messing with it about a hundred times this morning but he just wanted to remind himself that his tattoo was real. Chakotay and Kathryn had said he'd earned it for his birthday.

"I want to wear the tattoo to show thankfulness for my home," said Amal to his parents only two days ago. After a few more spirit walks he'd come to that conclusion and he meant it. He knew he was lucky. Melliana had shared the stories her mother and father told her about what life had been like on Trector after the Ribbidian's industry had finally destroyed the environment but after finishing a book Kolopak made him read, _The Jungle_ by Upton Sinclair, about life on Old Earth only a few hundred years ago, it finally hit home how good he had it and how much he loved everything around him. Kolopak had meant to gross Amal out but the story had a much more profound effect on him. That morning Chakotay took his oldest son into the kitchen before presents in the living room and tattooed him with the mark of the sky spirits.

Amal's attention was distracted by the shimmer of the next round of Voyager people transporting down. There was the Doctor guy and the Zahoran who was supposed to be a kid but was too tall. Next there was Ayala and Meghan, another Vulcan and his wife and that little girl who always followed him everywhere (gotta avoid her) and Harry and Helia and… Hos! Amal was out the door like a shot.

Hos spotted him and came running up.

"Dude," Hos said not bothering to hide how impressed he was. "Nice tat. I'm surprised your parents let you have it."

"Knew they would," replied Amal, nonchalantly.

"Did it hurt?"

"Nah." Amal neglected to tell him how he'd teared up near the end.

"Sweet. You got a Federation computer here? We need to get some real music playing."

"I think my mom locked all that out."

"Bet I could get into it," snickered Hos, lobes twitching.

Kathryn momentarily noticed the boys going into the house but soon turned back to B'Elanna, who had been telling her about the engines.

"So you'll have transwarp up and running on both ships in just a few days?"

"That's right," she said. "Technically it's up and running now. We just have a little more safety testing to do."

"That's fantastic," replied Janeway. "I'd love to be there to see the first flight."

"Actually, Captain," said B'Elanna, "we were hoping you would be. I know you and Chakotay haven't made up your minds about coming with us but we wanted to get the original senior staff back together for the inaugural run."

A wide grin spread across Janeway's face at the idea of taking her chair again even if it was just this once.

"You can count us in," she answered.

At the party, more guests were arriving from town to add to the already large gathering. Oropun was talking excitedly with the Doctor whose research he'd read so much of. Anar was listening, attentive as always, as Amelia excitedly introduced her new friends Henry Paris, T'Mir and Hyse Kim. Anar was trying to convince them all to call her meemaw, though T'Mir thought that too illogical as they were not related and Henry insisted on head butting her chair. Anar found this hysterical. Fidlemere, approving of Tuvok's seriousness in all things had engaged the Vulcan in a discussion of logical strategy. It seemed that he had finally found an ally against Gerrol in their age old argument about the battle of Richtenfal. Tuvok agreed wholeheartedly that to send their best strength up a muddy slope against a well defended wall was foolhardy at best. Gerrol did not agree and chose to side with the decision of the old four diamond general, Drandime, who in all other endeavors had been successful. The crotchety council member got more and more irate as he maintained that the element of surprise was key and had it not been for the lame drak mount one of the men foolishly led into a rock bed, the attack would have worked. Kathryn laughed at Tuvok getting entangled into the exchange she knew would last all afternoon. Soon she was distracted by the arrival of Regult, his wife Marill and their thirteen-year-old daughter Melliana.

"I'm so happy you've made it," she said going to greet them.

"A pleasure to be here," replied Regult.

"Your yard looks so lovely," added Marill.

Kathryn noticed Melliana looking around.

"Amal and his friend Hos went inside, I think," she said to the young girl. "Why don't you run in and see if you can convince them to join the party."

Melliana nodded and went into the house.

"Where's your other son?" asked Regult. "I haven't seen him yet."

"He's off with his friend, Miral," she sighed. "He'll come back soon," she added hoping that was true. "Come, there's lots of food and my goal is zero leftovers."

Off in the woods, Miral and Kolopak had found the climbing tree. After he helped her clamber up he tossed her the pack of food they'd made. They spread everything out and sat down to a messy picnic right there in the bowl amidst the branches.

"This is cool," said Miral between bites of honey bun. "I've never been up a real tree before. Only on the holodeck. My parents say you can't really tell the difference but it isn't the same. This is better somehow."

"I like it," replied Kolopak. "Where you're at is usually my spot. If you sit back on the branch there's a hole in the leaves. When the sun goes down, that's where the first stars come out."

Miral leaned back to try it out.

"I see stars _all the time," _she said, but felt bad when Kolopak looked disappointed. She went on quickly. "But I really like this now. I like the clouds. In the outside programs we have the clouds are on a cycle to save hard drive space. If you look up enough you know exactly what shape they'll be. Here I haven't seen the same thing twice. I can't get enough of them."

Kolopak smiled then and settled back on Amal's branch and went to work on a roasted turkey leg. The kids laid there mowing on food and enjoying their respective views until they started getting full. This was one of Kolopak's favorite things about Miral. She never talked his ear off with little stuff. Melliana was fun sometimes but now that she was older all she wanted to do was gossip. Amal got into it too but he _liked_ her so it was different. Miral wasn't like that. She could talk about smart stuff with him; interesting stuff like pretty much everything all his classmates hated hearing about, and she could tell him new things because she actually worked with it all. But the best part was that she could also shut up and just enjoy a good tree.

"So," she said, breaking the silence when they'd finally had enough to eat. "You gonna tell me why you didn't want to stay at the party?"

Kolopak was quiet at first. He was embarrassed about it but they told each other _everything…_

"Aldis and Rittan are going to be there."

"Didn't your brother beat those guys up?"

"Yeah, but they heard he was going to get a tattoo so they think he's cool again."

"They sound pretty dumb."

"They are," sighed Kolopak, "but I think Amal missed his friends so they all just pretended like nothing ever happened."

"Oh." They were both quiet again and Miral decided to change the subject. "Are you guys gonna come with us?" she asked.

"I don't know. My parents do everything Amal wants. Are you gonna join Starfleet when you get to earth?"

"Well duh," she said rolling her eyes. "We're already getting trained right now. Most of us ten year olds probably know more than the first year cadets. We have to deal with hostile aliens and real firefights. Most of the kids have to stay in quarters when that's going on but sometimes the aliens break in."

"Wow."

"Don't act like it's fun."

"Were you scared?"

"Nope. Ok a little, but I don't cry like some of the kids."

"At least things are interesting. All I do is go to school and all the kids there act stupid."

"The kids on Voyager act stupid too. Like my brother. He runs around and head-butts everything."

"My brother used to be fun. Now he mopes all the time."

"What's his problem?"

"He's afraid we'll leave home and go with you guys."

"Why would he want to stay here on just _one _planet. That's gotta be boring. We see different planets and aliens all the time. Maybe you could stow away."

"Yeah," he replied eagerly. "They might not notice till Voyager's long gone." He knew that would never work though. One thing about being on a small planet, your parents always knew where you were. He looked up at Miral. She seemed like she wanted to say something.

"What?"

She took a deep breath. "Ya know, we ran into a lot of other kids on some of those planets."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well not all of them were nice," she said slowly. "Sometimes they'd mess with us." Kolopak didn't say anything and looked away. Miral pushed on. "We wouldn't let them though. Even when they'd gang up. Us Voyager kids stuck together and took care of each other."

"What are you talking about?"

"If Aldis and Rittan give you any trouble we have your back."

"I'm not a Voyager kid."

"You're my friend. They'll all help."

"I don't want to stand behind you guys and look like a wuss."

"Well, you won't stupid," she said indignantly. "You have to do your part too, but you won't be alone. Hos will be there and Janet and Salvatore and me and your brother with his bad-ass tattoo."

Kolopak thought about it for a minute. He did want to go back. He was sick of missing out of stuff because of his brother's friends.

_WOO HOO_

Suddenly the two jumped as music blared from the direction of Kolopak's house.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Blur, Song 2," said Miral with a smile. "Hos must have broken into your parents' music files. It usually takes Tuvok an hour or two to unlock whatever encryption he put on it so we'll have some good music for a while at least. Let's go. It'll be fun." Kolopak looked back towards the house still undecided. "C'mon," she urged. "The only way I'm gonna think you're a wuss is if you sit on your butt up this tree all night, stars or not." That made up his mind. He jumped down out of the branches with Miral right behind and the two ran back up the path to the now very loud party.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Janeway could not remember exactly how she used to twist up her hair when she was captain. She wore it lots of different ways but when it was in a bun there was a certain way that kept the stray tendrils out of her collar, but she'd forgotten. No matter. Not quite the usual bun of steel but the top knot she had it in would work just fine for today. She looked a little farther down the full length mirror at the newly replicated uniform she wore, regretting that she hadn't made it a size larger. The old parameters were a little snug. _What do you expect after three children,_ she chided herself. Janeway turned when she heard Chakotay come out of the bathroom.

"So that's what you were doing in there!" she exclaimed as she walked up and ran her fingers through his new crew cut. She enjoyed how the short bristles tickled her finger tips but not as much as the soft locks that used to dust his chin. She let him know so.

"It wasn't regulation," Chakotay replied, showing her his dimples.

"This is only Voyager's demo run of the transwarp drive, hardly official, like us. We didn't need to be exactly by the book."

"I can always grow it back again."

_If we stay_, she thought but answered only with a sighing smile, dusting off a clipping or two from his shoulders and adjusting his combadge. He did look handsome in uniform and much younger than his years in spite of the grey hair. They walked out into the living room where the children were waiting.

"Everybody ready?" asked Chakotay. Kolopak nodded eagerly while Amelia clutched his hand tighter and stared up in awe at her parents' uniforms, but Amal said nothing. Janeway took a mental note of it all before tapping her com.

"Janeway to Voyager Prime. Five to beam up."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Janeway had a close eye on her children when they materialized on the bridge but everything looked like it would be ok. Amal had Amelia's hand in a tight grip and Kolopak's eyes were wide. Janeway thought he was frozen where he was. Chakotay instructed the children to stay where they were on the upper deck next to opps as both he and his wife took their old command stations. Looking around, Janeway saw everyone smiling (except Tuvok of course,) in their former positions: her old Vulcan friend on tactical, Harry on opps, Tom at the Helm controls and Chakotay to her left. She couldn't help but notice how at home he looked punching buttons on their console checking the modified engine specs.

"Janeway to engineering."

"Torres here Captain."

"How are those new engines looking?"

"Fired up and ready to go," answered B'Elanna.

"Alright Mr. Paris," she said with a grin. "Lay in a course to… anywhere. Maximum _trans_warp on my mark."

"Yes ma'am!" he answered. "Course laid in."

"Do it!"

The ship shot off and everyone felt a little jolt before they settled back into their seats.

"Inertial dampeners are still a nanosecond behind," reported Harry, "but nothing to worry about."

"We will be at our destination in approximately five seconds," informed Tuvok.

"All stop," ordered the Captain and they came smoothly out of transwarp. "Were are we?" Chakotay pulled up their coordinates on their monitor. "That far?"

"It would have taken us over half a day at warp nine to go this far," said Chakotay. Janeway couldn't contain the grin on her face. She looked up at her crew beaming.

"You really did it this time," she said, though she didn't add the _without me_. It was too bittersweet. "I'm so proud of you all. The only bad thing I can say about this trip is that it will be too short." She let out a sigh before giving the order to set a course back. She'd just found her old seat again and now it was all over. Perhaps it was better this way. Best to not get too attached.

"And we're back," said Tom. The Captain was just getting ready to get up and commend everyone again when Harry interrupted.

"Captain." The edge in the opps officer's voice put Janeway immediately on the alert. She retook her chair. "An Azhatti ship has Voyager II in a tractor beam.


	23. Chapter 23

"Kids," ordered Chakotay. "Ready room now. Under the desk and stay there." He was about to give directions but Kolopak interrupted.

"I know where it is," he said irritably. He led the way but couldn't help a longing look over his shoulder obviously wanting to stay on the bridge.

"Red Alert!" Janeway jumped into command mode the instant their children were stowed away. "Shields. Arm phasers. Tom, offensive maneuvers. Tuvok, get a lock on the source of that tractor beam." Harry and Tom couldn't help but shift nervously remembering their last encounter with an Azhatti ship. Not that there was any love for that species but still…

Voyager shot off at high impulse coming up on the alien cruiser.

"Target locked, Captain."

"Fire."

"No damage," reported Harry. "Their shields are at ninety-three percent."

"Anyone on board Voyager II?" asked Chakotay.

"Negative," answered Harry. Everyone is on Prime."

"Come back around," said the Captain. "Tuvok, keep poking at them with phaser fire. I doubt they'll ignore us for long."

"They're locking weapons."

"Evasive maneuvers. Arm photon torpedoes. They don't need to be getting too uppity," she added with a smirk. The Azhatti fired their disruptors as Voyager veered out of the way. The ship jerked a little taking a glancing shot but stayed on course. The bulky pirate ship fell in behind them and shot a spray of fire that peppered their aft shields like buck shot. Janeway let Tom have a free hand at the con while she ordered Tuvok to arm aft phase cannons and return fire.

In the ready room, the children were far from hiding as told. Once the ship jerked for the first time, Kolopak had crept up to the office door and gotten it open just a crack. Amal had only half heartedly tried to stop him. He wanted to see too. Mostly he wanted to see what his parents reaction to the attack. He imagined this would be the moment to prove him right. His parents would hate this as much as he did. Kolopak would see then he'd give up all the Starfleet crap and settle down. But when Amal got to the door, he almost couldn't stomach what was there. His mother… his mother looked like this was where she'd belonged all along. He'd never realized just how out of place she was doing house work, or even teaching a class. Now he felt it. Kolopak's expression mirrored hers. They were _enjoying _themselves. His father made it worse. His uniform fit almost too well and the look of pride he wore when he looked at their mother was too much. He took Amelia, who had come out to join them, back under the desk so he could sulk in private while Kolopak watched excitedly on.

"How are those aft shields?" asked Janeway while Voyager Prime still took fire.

"Holding," said Harry. "Rerouting power."

Janeway didn't want to loose the photon torpedoes yet. They were almost in position.

"Tom, come about again," she ordered. "Can you get between II and the Azhatti ship?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied almost happily and pulled the nose of Voyager Prime up to circle over the top of the Azhatti vessel. Prime met with a barrage of disruptor fire but the arc proved impossible for the bulky cruiser. By the time it was able to change course, Prime had planted itself in a defensive position with Voyager II at its back.

"Harry how are their shields?"asked the captain.

"Fifty-fifty two percent."

"Our shields?"

"About the same."

"All available power to forward shields. Arm all weapons and lock on the enemy ship."

"Captain if we…" put in Harry.

"Don't worry, Mr. Kim. If this is who I think it is," she said with a curl of her lip, leaning back in her chair, "we won't have to fire at all. Hail them."

"Responding."

"On screen."

"This is Durah'kett of the Azhatti cruiser Do Konec'niku! This is an outrageous attack! Our salvage rights….you." The Azhatti captain grew immediately and quietly sour when he finally recognized who was sitting in the captain's chair. "Why did I ever think it was anyone else but _you?_"

"It shouldn't matter if it was me or not, Durah'kett," answered Janeway with her arms crossed. "I think you knew this ship wasn't space junk."

"You always presume to know what I'm thinking, Captain. That's a bad habit."

Janeway ignored him. "You've got two choices, I think," she said. "We've got all our weapons locked on your ship which I think you know. You can either fly off and never come back or get blown to bits. You're decision."

"Fine, Captain, have it your way. I suppose you know what it's like to finally get your command back. I don't care to lose it again just yet." He snorted a little as he looked Janeway up and down. "Alive," he said and their ship shot off.

"Did you happen to get which heading he took," asked Janeway turning back to Harry.

"Sorry Captain. He hit transwarp faster than our sensors could pick up."

"Ah well," she sighed. "At least the Trecta will have some permanent peace. Harry, scan Voyager II. Make sure the Azhatti didn't do any damage and…" Janeway was distracted by Chakotay gently touching her arm. "… and Tuvok, it looks like I ought to give you back your bridge."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

It had been difficult to get the children to go to bed after the excitement of the evening. That task, done, however, Kathryn and Chakotay found they couldn't sleep either.

"When I tucked Kolo in tonight he told me he wanted to be a Starfleet captain," said Janeway, as she snuggled down into her husband's embrace. She had reveled being in the captain's chair again this afternoon but right now she didn't want to be in charge. Right now she only wanted to feel protected.

"He meant it, didn't he?"Chakotay sighed.

"Yes."

"The only way that will ever happen is if we go back to Earth."

"I know," she said. "And Amal will be heartbroken if we do."

"What do you want?" asked Chakotay.

"For me, I want back on Voyager. I belong on the bridge of a ship. It's in my bones. Especially now that I know my crew is still lost, my old debt to them haunts me, but a part of me belongs on New Earth too and whatever way I choose, I hurt one of my children and it's tearing me up inside." Chakotay held her close and kissed her forehead.

"One thing is different now, though," he said. "The crew are all parents. They'll understand if you decide to stay."

"And what about you?"

"I understand too, of course."

"No," said Kathryn, sitting up suddenly. "I mean what do you want? In all this time you've been patient and listened to all sides but you've never said what you wanted. Not this whole time."

"What do you think I want?"

"I'm not sure. I remember when we first came here, you wanted to stay badly. I could never understand why you'd let Voyager go so quickly."

"Because if Voyager had come back in any reasonable amount of time, I would have lost you, Kathryn." Chakotay was surprised she'd never realized that.

"You really think so?"

"You might not remember what those first few months were like, but I do. You kept me at arm's length, even farther after I started having a hard time hiding how I felt. It wasn't until I had to come up with that damn _ancient legend _on the spot that you finally started coming around."

"I could tell you made it up," she laughed as she lay back down next to him and snuggled into his big arms again, "but I always liked it. Do you really think I would have left you if we'd gone back to Voyager?"

"I did. Can you honestly tell me that if our crew would have come for us before you had that tattoo on your face we wouldn't have gone right back to being Captain and Commander?"

Kathryn didn't answer but drew closer to him. It pained her to think what all these years would have been like without the warmth and comfort of his body that she now took for granted, without his love or support, without their children. He squeezed her tighter.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to upset you. What I meant was that my reason for wanting to stay in the beginning was to be with you. That's still all that I want. My place is by your side and if we choose to go back to Old Earth, as long as I'm with you, I'm happy. It did feel good to be on a bridge again, though, "he added.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

It was the third evening after Kathryn and Chakotay had taken their family on the test run of Voyager. The sun was going down. Pinks, reds, and oranges streaked the sky. Amal felt a slight twinge of anxiety staring up at it. He knew he wasn't supposed to be out wandering the woods this late but his parents hadn't caught him slipping out the back door with his father's medicine bundle under his arm. He might be able to slip back in unnoticed as well.

Amal had never gotten the chance after the party the other night to tell his parents he wanted to stay on the planet and he felt as though he'd missed his opportunity. Before they had been on the bridge of Voyager, Amal believed he had an ally in his father. He knew Chakotay loved their home as much as he did. He saw it all the time when he took their family on the river, on picnics, when they went into town. But on the bridge of the ship Amal had expected him to feel just as out of place as he did. On the contrary, his father settled into the First Officer's chair like he'd worked there all his life. And Kolopak's face when they'd battled the Azhatti…

Amal was glad the moon was full when he got to the rocks. It wouldn't do to slip. This was important. He spread out his father's medicine bundle and spoke the words… _Akoochimoya_

Opening his eyes he found the mish-mash of New Earth like he always did. The condor soared over head, wings stretched out wide, feather tips fanned like fingers. Amal sensed the bird did not want to come down. Still, he called to it anyway. The spirit guide took its time landing.

"I want to talk," insisted Amal.

"I know," sniffed the condor, casually biting at an itch on his belly. "About the same thing, correct? Stay or go."

"Yes. You're acting annoyed. You're not supposed to be annoyed at me. You're supposed to help me."

"I believe it's you that is irritated with yourself," replied the bird. "You still wish to stay. You've know that from the beginning. Now you feel guilty because you believe that you are the only thing keeping them here."

"Yeah. I saw Kolopak…"

"And you know that your brother can never be happy here."

"Right but…"

"Tell me, Amal, why must you have everything?"

"Everything? I don't…"

"The universe has granted you quite a bit," said the Condor, black beady eyes snapping. "It stranded your parents here, which allowed you to be born. It stranded the Trecta, without whom you would have died at only two weeks. Even had you survived, you would have grown up friendless and been alone once your parents were dead, but now you have a happy and full life, even if you only had it for a short time. Perhaps this is the universe sending you an opportunity to give a little back."

"Why should I have to?"

"Of course you don't have to. In the end you will do as you feel you must." With that the Condor took wing again.

Amal's eyes flew open. He was more confused than ever and now he was angry.

"I don't want to leave," he said aloud to the stars and the river. "I don't care what Kolopak wants." The waxing moon lit up the forest well. It was near full. Amal felt like doing something rash but it was comfort he most wanted. There was one more place he would stop before going home.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Chakotay watched Kathryn as she nervously checked out the window for the fourth time.

"I'm sure he's fine," he said. "I told you my medicine bundle was gone earlier. Amal has a lot on his mind these days."

"But he never stays out this late."

Chakotay sighed. "Is everyone from Voyager on ship tonight?"

"As far as I know."

He tapped his combadge. "Chakotay to Voyager. Scan the surface for all human life signs and transmit coordinates to the Federation console on planet."

_Coordinates transmitted_, came the reply from the computer. Chakotay, followed by Kathryn, went into the kitchen to look at the results.

"There's you, me, Amelia, Kolopak who should not be out climbing trees right now and," Chakotay raised an eyebrow when he saw where Amal was.

"What's the matter?" asked Kathryn, worried.

"He's not in any danger," he said, turning the monitor towards her, "but trouble? I'll leave that up to you when he gets home."

"Perhaps you should go get him," she replied, reading the coordinates for herself.

"Yes, I think so."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

PING, PING, Argh! Amal let out a small cry as one of the pebbles he was throwing bounced back and nearly hit him in the eye. He'd been chucking rocks at Melliana's window for nearly ten minutes but to no avail. He'd started looking around on the ground for something that might make more noise when her window flew open.

"What the… Amal? What are you doing down there?"

"Can I come up?" he answered. "I want to talk to you about something."

"My dad's still up."

"I'll be quiet."

Melliana looked back behind her for a moment, listening. "Ok, fine." Amal climbed the trestle running up the side of her house nearly as fast as Pete could have but stumbled when he got to the window. Melliana cringed when he clunked to the floor.

"Sorry."

"So, what do you want to talk about?" she asked flopping down on her bed. Amal sat next to her.

"The ships leave in a few days."

"Oh. That?" Melliana rolled her eyes. "Honestly you're about as bad as your brother these days."

"I'm not," he said hurt. "That's the thing too. If we don't go Kolopak will never get to be a Starfleet Captain. He'll be stuck here forever and hate me forever."

"So go. You can always come back. You said the ships go a lot faster now, right?"

"Yeah," he said sadly laying down next to her. He'd expected her to be a little more upset at the idea of him leaving. "But it still might be sixteen years before I'd see this place again and I'd miss our house and the woods and our rocks by the river. And… and well I'd miss you. A lot."

"Really?" she said, turning her face towards his. She sounded surprised. "I didn't know you liked me _that _much."

"I thought you could tell."

"Well, you never tried to kiss me."

"Is that all I had to do?" Amal tried to sound as cool and collected as he had when he told Hos about his tattoo but the shakiness in his voice gave him away, especially when he noticed she was moving closer to him. "Now you tell me." The last part came out in a whisper as her lips gently touched his. He was surprised at how soft and gentle they were and was painfully aware at how rough his own lips felt. Melliana giggled though and didn't seem to mind. He was momentarily taken aback when she flicked her tongue inside his mouth but he took it in stride nonetheless. Just as he was building up the confidence to maybe run his hand trough her hair the door burst open.

"Melliana!"

"Dad!"

"Crap."

Chakotay and Regult had both burst into the room. Amal managed to whisper a quick _com you tomorrow _as he got up to hasten out of the room with his father on his heels.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

The mood at breakfast the next day was a subdued one. Kolopak was the only one who seemed to be in a good mood. In comparison with Amal, his tree climbing offense had seemed tamer than it would have otherwise. Amal had been sentenced to clean up duty in his father's woodshop for the next week. Kolopak had only gotten a day. His parents were being quiet too. They didn't relish punishing their children and there was still the decision to be made. If only they wouldn't keep the silence so thick… Amal finally made up his mind to speak. He put down his fork and stared up at his parents.

"Eat your breakfast," said Kathryn. "Fasting in protest is not going to get you out of clean up duty."

"It's not that," he stuttered out. Crap. Why did his parents have to make this so hard? Why did they all have to stare at him like that? Even Amelia looked accusing. "I want to talk about going back to Old Earth."

"There's still time to decide on that," said Chakotay going back to his meal. "We'll have a family discussion later. Eat your food."

"I know. I just…" Spit it out. Just spit it out. "I'm sorry I've been stubborn. I want to go to Old Earth." The last words came out in a rush. A gurgle came from Kolopak as he nearly choked on the muffin he was swallowing and they paused while Kathryn pounded him on the back.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said quietly staring down at his plate. "I want Kolo to be able to be a captain. I know that's the only way so… I just wanted to let you know that."

"Thank you for telling us, Amal," said Chakotay, laying a hand on his son's shoulder. "That makes the decision that much easier for all of us."

They all went back to eating. Kathryn looked back and forth between her sons. She thought about the sacrifice Amal had chosen to make for the sake of their family and for his younger brother. It broke her heart but she understood why he felt he needed to make it. He'd done it in earnest and it made her proud. Kolopak watched Amal long after his older brother had gone back to his meal even though he'd said nothing the entire time. Kathryn saw the look of determination on his face, much more resolute than many she'd seen on the faces of grown men. Even at that young age, Kolo felt what Amal had done for him and come hell or high water, he'd get his brother back home someday.

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

All their Trecta friends had gathered to see the human family off when they gathered to board the ship. Anar, at Janeway and Chakotay's request would be moving into their home. "Too much space," she'd said, "but I'll keep 'er warm for ya." The council, along with Dalina, Melliana and Marill were there too.

"We'll keep in touch as long as we're in communications range," promised Kathryn, as Chakotay shook everyone's hands and she bestowed teary eyed hugs. The children all gave their meemaw one last hug and kiss as well and Kolopak whispered that he'd be back to visit as soon as he was a starship captain. Anar thought she probably could take his word on that and told him she'd see him then. Kathryn, Chakotay, Amelia, and Kolopak circled into tight formation to prepare for transport but just before Kathryn contacted the ship she saw Melliana grab Amal's wrist. The young girl pulled one of her wooden combs with flowers carved in it out of her hair and pressed it into Amal's hand as she kissed him on the cheek.  
>"Don't forget me," she whispered in his ear. Amal stepped back and joined his family. It was the final good-bye. Time to go. Kathryn was surprised how easy it was to tap her badge and give the order.<p>

"Janeway to Voyager Prime. Five to beam up."

=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=

Janeway took a deep inhale of recycled atmosphere when she materialized on the bridge in front of her command seat. Is smelled sweeter than anything she had ever breathed before. She turned to smile at Tom already comfortable in the First Officer's position.

"We're being hailed," said Ensign Lorrit from opps. "Voyager II."

"On screen," replied Janeway. She looked up to see her husband's face on the viewer.

"Course laid in for the Alpha Quadrant," said Chakotay. "Ready to engage transwarp, Captain."

"On my mark," said Janeway, finally settling down into Voyager Prime's captain's chair: _her _chair. "Engage."


End file.
